


he's just that into you

by frougge



Series: and every february [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Non-Linear Narrative, dojaeyong are roomies, or like. just lack of communication sob emoji, or. lovers to friends to lovers love wins!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24984757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frougge/pseuds/frougge
Summary: “You told Doyoung?”Taeyong glances up from his phone to see Jaehyun standing at the door of his bedroom, still in his coat, with his scarf thrown lazily around his shoulders, managing to cover absolutely nothing. He’s got his eyebrows raised, his eyes open wide, but the expression of near betrayal is effectively ruined by the specks of snow melting on the tips of his hair.Taeyong bites back a smile.(or; jaehyun and taeyong date in college, break-up, and take some time to get back together.)
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong
Series: and every february [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808488
Comments: 26
Kudos: 148





	he's just that into you

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this at the end of january and its been a long five months but ! have finally made it. anyway big thank you to kinnie who proofread this fic and kept me in check<3 you can find their works [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tofugumball/pseuds/tofugumball)!!
> 
> thank u [emmie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joonswig) for help w the title i think u r genius would be lost without u why love always win
> 
> some things before you start:  
> \- though it def works as a standalone, this is technically a sequel which is why some small details might be a bit unclear! to get the full context u can read the first part of the series tho as mentioned before it does work as a standalone soo  
> \- part of this takes place in december and they keep bringing up vanessa hudgens's two christmas movies which are great. who else hyped for princess switch 2 coming out this december or nov or smth idk
> 
> anw hope you enjoy!!

i.

Jaehyun falls in love with Taeyong the very first time he sees him.

It’s stupid, maybe—definitely, according to both Yuta and Sehun who clown him for it mercilessly, but it’s _Taeyong_. He would have to be insane not to be in love with him from the start, after he had smiled at Jaehyun the very first time, eyes shining under the bright lights of their lecture hall.

“You’ve lost your mind,” Sehun tells him when Jaehyun begs him to arrange a double date. In Jaehyun’s mind, it’s the perfect plan; not only is Sehun sort of friends with Taeyong, he’s also dating Taeyong’s roommate. The date would go that much smoother and they would end the night with Taeyong in love with Jaehyun. “You have genuinely lost your mind.”

“No, no, it’s a great idea, come on,” Jaehyun says, kicking the side of his bed. It only makes Sehun send him an irritated look, so he does it again, momentarily forgetting that this isn’t exactly going to help his cause. “Just one double date. That’s all I need.”

“Just ask him out for a normal date. _That_ ’s all you need.”

“I can’t,” Jaehyun insists, sinking in his desk chair. He’s supposed to be working, theoretically, but with his mind full of everything Taeyong, it’s not like he’s in the right headspace to get anything done. “I can’t. You see how I get around him. He’s going to think I’m a loser.”

“He won’t,” Sehun says. Yuta makes a noise from where he’s lying on the floor; Sehun rushes to correct himself. “He might.”

“Thanks,” Jaehyun says, “I knew I could count on you guys.”

“You’re welcome.”

“No, but seriously, why don’t you just ask him out?” Sehun asks, throwing one of Jaehyun’s pillows on Yuta, who’s sprawled out on their floor and barely paying any attention to the conversation at hand, too occupied with his phone. “He’ll at least appreciate the gesture. Even if he rejects you.”

“Oh my god,” Jaehyun sinks even lower in his chair, “oh my god, what if he rejects me? This is a nightmare. I hate it here.”

“He’s not going to reject you,” Sehun sighs heavily and, almost immediately, Yuta crosses his hands in the air at Sehun, shaking his head vigorously. Jaehyun really needs to find better friends. “Probably. Actually, I don't know. Don’t take my word for it or anything.”

“Just ask him out,” Yuta says, “you’ll look like an incel if you ask him out on a double date through Sehun.”

“I’m gonna look like an incel when Taeyong rejects me in front of everyone.” Jaehyun turns to Sehun, clasping his hands together, “please set up a double date with us, Taeyong and your boyfriend. Please. I’ll do anything for you.”

“You don’t want to go on a double date with Taeil,” Sehun says, as if he hasn’t been dating Taeil for the past almost four months.

“Why not? I thought you liked him.”

“He’s okay,” Sehun starts, the words lingering in the air for a few moments before he continues, “it’s just,” he clicks his tongue, “I’m in the middle of figuring out how to break up with him.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun says, sitting up, even if only just a bit. “I had no clue.”

“It’s nothing serious,” Sehun waves his hand dismissively. “But like, yeah. If you're looking for someone to go on a double date with, it's not me. Yuta’s your next best bet.”

“I don’t know Taeyong,” Yuta argues before Jaehyun even has the chance to ask him to do that. “I’ve never met him. I don’t even know what he looks like.”

“Your boyfriend knows him, doesn’t he?” Jaehyun says, “come on, you can’t tell me he doesn’t. They’re literally friends. I see them talking all the time.”

“…they’re friends,” Yuta admits. Sehun picks up his phone, looking much too relieved that the conversation has finally steered away from him. “Jungwoo’s like, I don't know, not into the concept of double dates, though.”

“Can’t you ask him about it?” Jaehyun says, “please, come on. For me?”

Yuta frowns. “And what do I get from it?”

“I’ll do your dishes for the next week?”

“The next two weeks.”

“I—sure, whatever,” Jaehyun shakes his head. “I'll do your dishes for the next two weeks, granted that the double date occurs.”

“Add laundry to that and I’m down.”

“I’ll do your dishes and laundry for the next two weeks," Jaehyun says. "That enough?"

“Yeah,” Yuta grins, closing his eyes and stretching his hands out above his head. “I’ll ask Jungwoo if he’ll want to go out on a double date with you and Taeyong. But I’m definitely not asking Taeyong out for you—or making Jungwoo do it, that’s somehow even more humiliating. You have to ask him out yourself.”

“I can’t do that,” Jaehyun whines. “If I do that he’ll reject me.”

“Jaehyun, your mind amazes me sometimes.” Yuta takes a deep breath before he adds, “I’ll take pity on you this one time and ask Jungwoo to, I don’t know, tell Taeyong you’re nice. Put in a good word for you, so you don’t immediately flop.”

“I’ll literally owe you my life for that one,” Jaehyun sits up in his chair, moments away from dropping onto his knees and profusely bowing in front of Yuta in thanks. “Thank you, thank you so much—”

“—you’re still going to have to ask him out yourself, you know,” Yuta says, “I’m not doing that for you.”

Jaehyun takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he says, finally. “I’ll—should I get him flowers? When I ask him out?”

“Fuck no,” Sehun glances up from his phone to give Jaehyun a pointed look, as if suggesting he bring flowers to ask out Taeyong is the stupidest idea he's ever had. “That’s too much. Makes you seem like a try-hard and shit. You don’t want that.”

“Mhm,” Yuta hums in agreement. “Yeah, kinda. Or—well, maybe Taeyong likes try-hards?”

“If he does, he’s probably very fucking high maintenance,” Sehun says and Jaehyun frowns. “You’ll have to keep doing shit for him and will have no free time—that is if you even manage to live up to his probably sky high standards.”

“I wouldn’t mind that," Jaehyun counters slowly, a bit at a loss for words. “That doesn’t seem as terrible as you’re making it out to be.”

Yuta and Sehun share a look.

“Right,” Sehun says, before he shakes his head. “Whatever. Personally, I wouldn’t bother with the flowers.”

“I wouldn’t either,” Yuta agrees, nodding, “one, it's going to be expensive—and definitely not worth it, even if he says yes. Two, the flowers are gonna wilt in like a week, anyway, so what's the point? Three, again, it makes you seem like such a try-hard.”

“It really does,” Sehun says, scrunching up his nose. “Like, genuinely. Just ask him out, man.”

Jaehyun takes Yuta and Sehun’s ideas into deep consideration, and decides to wake upearlier than usual the next day to make the hour walk to and from the nearest actually good flower shop. He spends too long selecting a plant for Taeyong, trying to make sure it’s absolutely perfect, which results in him having to run back to his lecture hall to not be late for class.

He’s thirty minutes late for class.

There’s no good way to enter now, he decides, after struggling to open the door for way too long while holding the medium-sized Christmas cactus that's much heavier than it has any right to be. Maybe his friends _were_ right and he really should have just skipped the plant, he thinks, but—this at least shows dedication? At least it shows that he’s genuinely into Taeyong.

Or maybe it shows that he’s pathetic and too much of a try-hard, but it's not like he has much of a choice now, anyway.

Jaehyun sets the plant down on the windowsill. Nearly half of the pot is dangling dangerously off it, but he decides to ignore that as he heaves himself up to sit down next to the cactus. He wastes time as he waits for the class to end by fucking around on his phone, tuning into his group chat with Sehun and Yuta, where they’re currently losing their mind because of Post Malone’s newest track. Jaehyun frowns down at their messages and instead of responding, tunes into his animal crossing pocket camp app.

By the time the lecture ends, Jaehyun’s bored out of his damn mind. The sound of the door opening makes him perk up in his seat, straightening as he waits for Taeyong to exit. He does a few moments later, followed by Jungwoo, who spots Jaehyun immediately and sends him a near predatory smile.

That cannot be a good sign.

Not in the mood to let something so simple fuck up his five-year plan for having Taeyong fall in love with him and get spontaneously married to him in the middle of the night, Jaehyun hurries to slide off the windowsill, using his hands to help him come down. He must have miscalculated a number of things, though, because his elbow lines up near perfectly with the Christmas cactus, knocking into it as he gets down.

The plant pot shakes before falling onto the ground.

Jaehyun’s jaw drops as he fails to process everything, as he watches the dirt from the plant pot spill out across the floor, as the flowers become soiled, as his plan for asking Taeyong out is effectively ruined. His reputation, too, but it’s not like that was good before, anyway.

“Fuck me,” he mutters, dropping to his knees, vaguely aware of the other students circling around him as he tries to mop up the wet dirt with his hands. The only thing that does is make things worse, if he’s to be honest, and he’s five-seconds away from crying.

It’s only very embarrassing.

“You should probably just use some tissues,” he hears and looks to find Taeyong squatting next to him, gently lifting the plant up so it’s not lying on the floor anymore. “Maybe paper towels. Or a mop or something.”

“I—yeah,” he manages to say, “I just… I don't have any.”

Taeyong smiles under his breath. Jaehyun wants to disappear into the earth and never come back. “Do you have anything to put this in?”

“Huh?”

“Do you have anything to put the plant in,” Taeyong repeats, even more amused as his smile widens. “Like another plant pot. Or a bag or something, so we don’t keep looking like a pair of clowns.”

“Uh—I do,” Jaehyun says, turning to his backpack. He flips through its contents, trying not to feel like Taeyong’s eyes are burning into his skin, and manages to find a spare plastic bag that’s ripped only a little. “Yes, I—wait,” he shakes his head, “um, oh, you don't have to help me with this.”

“Jaehyun, it’s okay,” Taeyong says and oh, _he remembers my name,_ Jaehyun thinks. “Just hold the bag open?”

Jaehyun does as instructed, watching as Taeyong struggles with picking up the cactus. He doesn’t say anything, shocked into a stupor, and lets Taeyong set the plant into the bag carefully.

“What’s it for, anyway?” Taeyong asks, as he’s busy scooping up the dirt, rather unsuccessfully, onto one of the tissues to transfer it to the bag. “The plant, I mean. It’s not—it’s not uni property, is it? I’ve never seen it before.”

“It’s for you,” Jaehyun says, because he has no filter, as Taeyong scoops the last bit of dirt into the bag. Taeyong’s eyes widen and he furrows his brows, looking up at him.

“For me?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says, tying the ears of the plastic bag and pretending he doesn't see the dirt spilling out of it in at least three different places. He picks up the pieces of the ceramic plant pot, stalling for time as he throws them out. “I wanted to ask you out. On a, you know. Date.”

“Oh,” Taeyong seems frozen, almost, and this would maybe be more funny if Jaehyun wasn’t trying his hardest not to piss his pants. “Why not… get regular flowers? Instead of this? Not that this isn’t very pretty. It’s very pretty.”

“It’s a Christmas cactus,” Jaehyun takes one of Taeyong’s tissues to at least hide the remainder of the dirt under the nearby radiator. “I thought it would be nice,” he adds, in response to Taeyong’s question, “I mean, it wouldn’t wilt, like regular roses would. It’s one of my favorite plants, too, so I thought maybe you’d like it.”

“Oh,” Taeyong repeats. He blinks, once, twice, before he speaks again. “So where do we go from here? With the plant, I mean.”

And there it is—the rejection, effectively shattering Jaehyun’s vision of his dream life.

“We’d have to repot it, probably,” Jaehyun says, before he shakes his head. “Definitely have to repot it. But it’s fine, I can just take it home and figure out how I’ll do that. Thanks for the help, though.”

He stands up, holding the bagged plant carefully in his arms, so he doesn’t risk destroying it anymore than he already has. Taeyong watches him, caught in a daze, almost, before he springs to his feet.

“It’s my plant, though, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean, your plant?”

“It’s for me,” Taeyong explains, smiling almost shyly as he steadies himself by placing a hand on Jaehyun’s forearm. “So it’s my plant, isn’t it?”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes at him. “I guess.”

“Well, so long as you help me repot it and maybe give me some pointers as to how to keep it alive, I’d like to keep it,” Taeyong straightens in his place, raising his eyebrows at Jaehyun almost as if he’s declaring a challenge. “Just so you know, in advance, I am kinda shit at taking care of plants.”

“How bad are you, exactly?”

“Most of my plants have died,” Taeyong says, sheepish. “Are you up for the challenge of helping me repot this, uh, what did you say it was?”

“A Christmas cactus.”

“Right,” Taeyong smiles, twisting his fingers together. “Are you up for the challenge of helping me repot this Christmas cactus?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says, feeling his own smile break across his face, and Taeyong beams at him. “Uh, what time works for you?”

“Now, if you’re free?” Taeyong suggests and Jaehyun nods. “We can go to my dorm, then, and figure this out.” He pauses, twists his hands together some more, before he adds, “we can talk about the date thing, too,” and Jaehyun falls impossibly more in love with him.

vii.

“You told Doyoung?”

Taeyong glances up from his phone to see Jaehyun standing at the door of his bedroom, still in his coat, with his scarf thrown lazily around his shoulders, managing to cover absolutely nothing. He’s got his eyebrows raised, his eyes open wide, but the expression of near betrayal is effectively ruined by the specks of snow melting on the tips of his hair.

Taeyong bites back a smile.

“Please tell me you took off your shoes and didn’t drag mud through the whole fucking apartment,” Taeyong says. He doesn’t have to look past his own knees to know that Jaehyun definitely didn’t. “Please tell me you took them off.”

“I—well, no,” Jaehyun pauses. He presses his lips into a thin line before he sighs, loudly, and disappears back into the hallway. Taeyong gets up from his bed to follow him, trying not to lose his mind at the sight of the trail of mud leading to the living room. “Did you, though?”

“Did I what?”

“Tell Doyoung?”

Taeyong sucks in his cheeks, certain he knows exactly what Jaehyun’s on about. “Did I tell him what?”

“About how—you know,” Jaehyun says, kicking off his shoes. He shrugs off his coat, throws it on the coatrack, dumps his scarf on the dresser (Taeyong watches as it falls from it onto the wet floor), and looks up at Taeyong. “About how we went out? In, uh, college?”

“I… might have,” Taeyong narrows his eyes. He takes a seat on the couch, watching as Jaehyun picks up one of the kitchen dish clothes and starts using it to clean the floor. He scrunches up his nose in distaste, but doesn’t comment on it. “Why?”

“He asked me about it today.”

“What did he want to know?” Taeyong asks, furrowing his brows.

“If it was true,” Jaehyun says and Taeyong can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes his mouth. Figures. “How long it lasted. Why we didn’t tell him. If we really didn’t tell anyone about it. That sort of thing.”

“He asked me the same when I first told him about it.”

Jaehyun hums in response, not saying anything, and Taeyong pulls his knees up to his chest, staring at the turned off tv screen as Jaehyun continues wiping the floor. They still haven’t gotten around to fixing the remote after Jaehyun broke it a few weeks ago and now that he’s sat down, he really cannot force himself to get up to turn it on, though the silence in the apartment makes his skin itch. He taps his fingers on the armrest, silent for a moment, before he speaks again.

“Did you not want me to?” He pushes past his throat, ignoring the way his heart feels heavy in his chest, “tell him, I mean. Would you rather he still not know?”

“Uh,” Taeyong tastes the rejection on his tongue, feels the thick disappointment settle on the bottom of his stomach, feels every last bit of hope he might have had crumble over his skin. “Not really, I guess? I was just… surprised, is all. Thought you forgot about the whole thing.” Jaehyun pauses for a moment. “Thought you maybe preferred not to remember it or whatever.”

“As disappointing as it might be, I don’t actually have selective amnesia,” Taeyong says. He already knows he’s going to regret it later, but he adds, “and, you know, it wasn’t that bad.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Jaehyun echoes, the amusement from his voice ringing throughout the whole apartment. He must go dump the dish towel in the bathroom and wash his hands, because it takes him a few moments to come back to the living room. “Thanks for the shining recommendation. I’ll add it to my grindr bio later.”

“That was good enough for at least a tinder bio,” Taeyong argues, watching as Jaehyun pours himself a cup of coffee before downing it all in one sip. Disgusting, but at least it’s not one of his energy drinks. “Maybe Bumble if you’re desperate enough. Christian Mingle’d work, too. Maybe.”

“You’re so sweet.”

“Just make sure to credit me,” Taeyong says, holding up his hand, “I can already see it. Jung Jaehyun. _Not that bad_ , Lee Taeyong. Think that’d score you like, two dates.”

“Just two? Damn,” Jaehyun says, “I thought I’d at least get three.”

“More is less and all that shit.”

“Sweet _and_ smart? Man, what a deal,” Jaehyun opens the fridge, his voice becoming muffled as he starts to look through its contents. “Shouldn’t have let you go when I had the chance.”

Taeyong’s skin burns and he turns his head to look out the window, if only so Jaehyun doesn’t notice how red he’s gotten. “Very funny.”

“To see more of my act, you should come to my stand-up show next week,” Jaehyun says and Taeyong’s only fifty percent sure he’s joking. “Why is our fridge practically empty?”

“Maybe someone forgot to go grocery shopping?”

“Wasn’t it your turn?”

“Was it?” Taeyong asks. It was, but he decided to conveniently forget to go to the store on his way home. It’s more an act of protest than anything else, considering he’s the only one out of the three of them who can’t drive and he’s definitely not bringing back bags of groceries home on the bus nor on foot. “It must have slipped my mind.”

Jaehyun hums and Taeyong turns his head to see that he’s watching him, amused, and feels his heart swell in his chest.

“You forgot, huh,” Jaehyun says, letting the fridge close as he goes to lean over the kitchen counter. He keeps his eyes fixed on Taeyong and it’s a bit much, maybe, but Taeyong manages to hold his gaze. Jaehyun’s the one who caves in first, letting his head drop onto the counter in defeat as he groans exaggeratedly. “We can go shopping together later, if you want.”

“I don’t,” Taeyong whines, resting his head on the back of the couch as he watches Jaehyun lift his head. “Wouldn’t you be into doing it alone? Wouldn’t that be nice? And I’d get to rest.”

“It’s your turn to do the grocery shopping,” Jaehyun says, leaving the kitchen to join Taeyong on the couch. When he falls onto the couch and Taeyong shifts closer to him, Jaehyun rolls his eyes, mock annoyed, but he rests his arm around Taeyong’s shoulders and lets Taeyong throw his legs over his lap anyway. “We can order pizza later, then?”

“Mhm,” Taeyong hums into Jaehyun’s hoodie. He’ll tell himself later that it’s because of the fatigue, but he knows better. “Can’t you cook some noodles or something?”

“As I said, our fridge is practically empty,” Jaehyun points out, “what exactly am I supposed to cook with?”

“Anything else,” Taeyong lets his eyes close as Jaehyun’s hand skims his back, his touch comforting. Getting hugged by Jaehyun always feels nice, like Taeyong’s gotten home after a long day, like he’s settled by their imaginary fireplace with a cup of tea in his hand, finally ready to relax. “I don’t know, we definitely have some rice in the cupboards. Just cook up some vegetables to add to it or whatever and you’re done.”

“We have no vegetables,” Jaehyun says, light laughter on his breath. “That’s the whole problem.”

“Then go buy some.”

“I can’t,” Jaehyun says, “not when you’re practically sitting on me like this.”

“I’m not sitting on you, fuck you,” Taeyong tells him, ignoring the way his chest constricts rapidly, threatening to crush his lungs. He moves to swing his leg off of Jaehyun’s, but before he has the chance, Jaehyun’s hand lands on his knee gently.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” he hurries to say, his thumb skipping over Taeyong’s knee, though the damage is done; the reality of everything has already sunk into Taeyong’s skin. “Seriously—I was just clowning around.”

“No, it’s okay,” Taeyong says, standing up, feeling Jaehyun’s hands drop from his knee, first, and then his shoulders. He always does this—overindulges himself in Jaehyun’s presence, lets his mind pretend that they’re together, that he doesn’t have to actually move on and that Jaehyun doesn’t have a date the very next week. “We should probably go get the groceries anyway.”

“I just got hooome,” Jaehyun whines. He reaches out with his hand for Taeyong, fingers catching on his sweater, and Taeyong swats him away. “Come on, Taeyong. We can just vibe for a bit before we go.”

“We have to get the shopping done before Doyoung comes home,” Taeyong argues, “I’m pretty sure he forgot his key and I don’t want to leave him stranded in front of the apartment, even if only just for a few minutes.”

“He wouldn’t be stranded in front of the apartment.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Jaehyun admits, grinning. “I still don’t want to go, though.”

“It’d just take like, twenty minutes, tops,” Taeyong says, kicking at Jaehyun’s ankle and missing twice. “When we come back, we can watch _Cars_.”

“Not the Vanessa Hudgens Christmas movies?”

“Maybe one of the Vanessa Hudgens Christmas movies,” Taeyong relents, as if he hasn’t spent the past weeks watching only _The Princess Switch_ and _The Knight Before Christmas._ “As long as we go now.”

“Can’t we first watch one of the movies?” Jaehyun asks, grabbing Taeyong’s hand and pulling on it, almost successful in making Taeyong fall on the couch. “Please? I’d die for _The Princess Switch_ just about now.”

“If anything, we’d watch _The Knight Before Christmas_ ,” Taeyong says, “it’s the obvious choice.”

“Yeah, if you’re an idiot,” Jaehyun says, and Taeyong’s sure he’s going to lose his fucking mind. “I’ll settle for _The Knight Before Christmas,_ though, if that convinces you to stay here and vibe with me.”

“You can say cuddle, it’s okay,” Taeyong teases him. This time, when Jaehyun pulls on his arm again, he lets himself get dragged onto the couch, lets his body fall against Jaehyun’s. “But fine, we can watch the movie and then go buy groceries. If Doyoung ends up locked out of the apartment, though, that’s on you.”

“Of course,” Jaehyun grins, “expected nothing less.”

“You're the one who has to put the movie on, though,” Taeyong tells him, lightly elbowing his side, “and if you want, it can be the princess one.”

“God, you’re so generous, it amazes me,” Jaehyun says as he pushes himself up from the couch, fingers catching on Taeyong’s hair just briefly before he goes to retrieve his laptop; neither of them know how to operate Netflix through the tv without a functional remote. It takes him a minute or two to come back, the movie already open on the screen, and he pushes the empty cups on the coffee table to the side, making them come dangerously close to knocking over.

 _The Knight Before Christmas_ , the screen reads.

“You ready?” Jaehyun asks and when Taeyong nods, he presses the spacebar, letting the movie start playing as he settles down next to Taeyong on the couch, head falling on Taeyong’s shoulder as if it belongs there. “Can you see everything well?”

A good portion of the screen is covered by Jaehyun’s hair when Taeyong rests his cheek on the top of Jaehyun’s head, and the laptop is angled in such a way that Taeyong can barely see what’s happening, light flashing back into his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says, letting his fingers find the nape of Jaehyun’s neck, letting his fingers run through the ends of his hair. “Everything’s perfect.”

ii.

The double date goes terribly.

It’s all Yuta’s fault, really, because he keeps teasing Jaehyun about stupid shit that Taeyong should definitely not be finding out—at least not this soon—if Jaehyun’s meant to have any semblance of a chance with him.

“God, you’re so lucky to have met him only now,” Yuta says, leaning across the table towards Taeyong, and Jaehyun hates him. He’s half-convinced it would’ve been better if he managed to persuade Sehun to come along with Taeil, even if they were on the verge of breaking up. “He was such a desperate virgin last year, it was hard to watch.”

It definitely would’ve been better if he managed to persuade Sehun to come along with Taeil, no matter how awkward that might have been. Or even if he just stomached it and asked Taeyong out alone, so neither of his friends would be there to sabotage him.

“Huh,” Taeyong says, furrowing his brows as he glances at Jaehyun, confused, and Jaehyun kicks Yuta under the table.

“Haha, yeah, that was crazy,” he sends Yuta a pointed look, trying to communicate that he’s being insane and ruining just about all of Jaehyun’s chances. “Luckily I’ve moved on from that time in my life.”

“I thank every deity I can think of for that.” Jungwoo reaches for his drink, swirling his straw around in it, looking much too amused. Jaehyun decides he’s in hell. “It really was a terrible moment. He wanted to fuck _so_ bad.”

“You weren’t even there to witness it,” Jaehyun scowls at him before he remembers Taeyong’s next to him and probably getting more and more disinterested in him by the minute. His mind scrambles for something to say to change the topic of conversation, but he’s unable to think of anything before Yuta speaks up.

“Can’t decide if it was better or worse than the emo phase he had all through high school,” he says, “we’ll have to drag the photos out one day, honestly. They’re such a treasure.”

“Literally everyone goes through an emo phase.”

“Normal people don’t,” Jungwoo says, causing him and Yuta to erupt into laughter that makes Jaehyun want to die. Nothing worse than this, he’s sure.

“I would only let myself listen to Rammstein up till my sophomore year of high school,” Taeyong says, suddenly, his voice low, his hand landing on Jaehyun’s knee as if to make sure that Jaehyun’s paying attention to him. “I wouldn’t listen to anything else. If someone mentioned pop music within a five mile radius, I’d go batshit.”

“Would you actually?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong scoots his chair a bit closer to Jaehyun, a smile marking his words. “Was a fucking Rammstein supremacist.”

“At least you grew out of it.”

Taeyong laughs. Jaehyun thinks he wants to hear him laugh for the rest of his life. “And you didn’t grow out of your emo phase?” He teases, “or, uh, what was the other one?”

“I have,” Jaehyun hurries to say, though that only serves to make Taeyong laugh again. “Grown out of both, I mean. We don’t have to fixate on this, really.”

“I think we should,” Yuta says and Taeyong’s hand immediately slips off Jaehyun’s knee. “Jaehyun’s emo phase was mad insane. I think it even got to the point that—”

“—I’m going to go order some more drinks, actually,” Jaehyun stands up, so fast that he almost knocks his chair over. “You want to come with, Taeyong?”

“Sure.”

“No, no, you should stay,” Jungwoo says, even though Taeyong’s already taken Jaehyun’s hand, already let himself be pulled up to his feet. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“I really could use the company,” Jaehyun insists and Yuta snickers, clearly seeing through his genius plan. It’s all background noise, though, because Taeyong squeezes Jaehyun’s hand before letting it go and knocks his shoulder into Jaehyun’s lightly.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells Jungwoo, sending him a small smile.

“Fine,” Jungwoo sighs, leaning back in his seat. “Get me a vodka tonic, then.”

“And me a beer,” Yuta adds, snapping his fingers at Jaehyun, “you know the type I like.”

“Of course,” Jaehyun says, fully aware that he definitely does not know what type of beer Yuta favors. He figures he’ll make something up, and he and Taeyong go to sit by the bar, waiting for the bartender to finish serving the people before them.

Jaehyun sends a glance back at the table they’re sitting by; Yuta looks much too excited when their eyes meet. He starts nodding his head, gesturing about something that’s probably going to ruin Taeyong’s opinion of Jaehyun even more.

“This is going to sound a bit insane,” Jaehyun says, turning back to Taeyong, twisting his hands together. This is his one chance. “What do you, um, what do you say we leave?”

Taeyong cocks his head to the side, his brows pulling together before the corners of his lips tug upwards. “You mean we dine and dash?”

“I—kind of,” Jaehyun chews on the inside of his cheek. “I mean, they’re going to pay, obviously, but we’ll just—we’ll just leave without telling them.”

“If we’re going to do that, we should do it fast,” Taeyong says, his hand coming to rest gently on Jaehyun’s, making them still in his lap. “Before they realize we’re not exactly ordering drinks.”

“You’ve got experience with this?”

“I’d just call it common sense,” Taeyong grins, laughter high on his breath. Jaehyun thinks he wants to kiss him right then and there, while he’s still looking at him like that. He doesn’t get the chance, if only because Taeyong squeezes his hands and says, “come on, before they catch on.”

“Before they catch on,” Jaehyun agrees, letting Taeyong drag him out of the bar. They run through the streets, laughter spilling out of their mouths, Taeyong’s hand warm in his, only stopping once they reach the nearest bus stop.

“Should be here in just a few minutes,” Taeyong reads from the schedule, before they sit down together on the bench, shoulder-to-shoulder and knee-to-knee despite there being plenty more room. “Yuta or Jungwoo call you yet?”

“I don’t think they’ve even noticed we’ve left,” Jaehyun lies; Yuta’s been calling him for the past several minutes—he has eight missed calls from him. Nine, if the buzzing he feels in his jacket pocket is Yuta again. “I’m sorry you had to sit through all that.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Taeyong says, looking up at the sky. “Maybe a bit awkward, but, you know. It is what it is. Certainly worth sitting through to learn some more Jaehyun trivia.”

“Do me a favor and forget all the things they mentioned.” Taeyong laughs at this, the sound loud in the open street, and Jaehyun rushes to add, “no, please, I’m serious. I’m much better than all that they said.”

“Were you really such a desperate virgin?”

Jaehyun’s face burns; that’s not really a phase of his life he wants to come back to, much less discuss with Taeyong. “I don’t think it matters,” he says diplomatically and Taeyong just laughs harder, and though it’s embarrassing down to his core, Jaehyun can’t help but smile. “Hey, no, come on. It’s not that funny.”

“It is kind of funny,” Taeyong argues, “though at least you weren’t a hardcore potterhead.”

“That's a dealbreaker?" Jaehyun’s already planning out how to get rid of his shelf of Harry Potter paraphernalia back home. It’d probably be best to sell it, if only so he can make some money back, but he might need to look into just simply giving it away before Taeyong finds out.

“It depends,” Taeyong muses. “Were you a potterhead?”

“I think it’s best if I don’t answer that.”

“Just tell me you weren’t a Gryffindor and I’ll take it.”

“A Hufflepuff,” Jaehyun says, “I did get Gryffindor through the sorting hat quiz once, though.”

“I’ll let that pass,” Taeyong says, “just this once,” and Jaehyun has no time to even dwell on the implications of that as Taeyong springs to his feet, his face breaking out in a grin. “Our bus is here."

“Where’s it going?” Jaehyun asks, as the bus stops and he follows Taeyong onto it, as they sit down next to each other far in the very back. “Do you know?”

“I think I checked it but on god do I not remember,” Taeyong says. He’s grinning, eyes shining under the harsh lights of the bus, and—and. “It goes, uh… somewhere, that’s for sure.”

“We’ll just go wherever it takes us, then,” Jaehyun decides, because even if they get lost (which is very likely), at least it’ll be in Taeyong’s company. “So long as it doesn’t circle back here, because then we’re going to be screwed.”

“You think Yuta and Jungwoo are going to be that mad we ditched them?”

“Maybe,” Jaehyun says. “I couldn’t care less, though.”

Taeyong stares at him, almost unsure. He blinks, gaze catching on Jaehyun’s lips before it swerves back up to meet his eyes, and he grins, cheeks blooming red.

“Me, too,” he agrees.

viii.

Taeyong gets the stepping stool job to his actual dream job just before the week ends. He drags out Jaehyun and Doyoung, as well as two of his now former coworkers—god, does that feel good to say—to a pool bar that he’d heard Donghyuck rave about the other day. It’s supposed to be nice—it _is_ nice.

It’s just that—Jaehyun’s flirting with the bartender.

“There he goes again,” Joohyun muses from where she’s leaning on her cue stick as Taeyong lines up his own with the white ball. He’s losing, so far—the consequence of willingly playing against Jaehyun. “Really in it to win it, huh.”

And the thing is: Jaehyun’s not even flirting with the bartender. The first time he’d gone to order drinks had been with Taeyong nearly hanging off his shoulder and even then, the bartender had been leaning half-way across the bar as Jaehyun rattled off what drinks they wanted. Good for him, of course; Taeyong’s not gonna stop him from shooting his shot, but he’d just wish some people would respect themselves more.

Okay, that’s a bit much.

“God, he really is playing hard to get, isn’t he,” Seulgi says. “I thought that was just a het thing.”

“Apparently not,” Joohyun says and curiosity gets the better of Taeyong as he looks over his shoulder, at the bar. Sure enough, Jaehyun’s half-sitting on one of the stools and the bartender’s busy mixing drinks, making it look much more impressive than it actually is, probably. Taeyong’d do just as well if he was the one behind the bar, he’s sure.

“Maybe he’s not into it at all,” Taeyong scoffs, turning back to the pool table. “It looks like such a cheap gimmick.”

“This is the worst take you’ve ever had,” Seulgi tells him. “It’s simple—bartenders sexy, even if they're doing the most flashy shit. Even if it's all just a cheap gimmick. I couldn’t care less. It’s hot.”

“Seulgi’s right,” Joohyun adds, “it do be hitting, though. Like the bartending. It’s a bit unreal to me.”

“I’m so happy I don’t have to work with you anymore,” Taeyong says, “not a single thing you’ve said so far makes sense. Bartenders are not sexy. You have to be insane to be into them.”

“If that’s true, Jaehyun looks pretty insane right now,” Joohyun says, just as Taeyong pushes his cue stick forward. The words take him by surprise, making him shift and effectively shoot the white ball into the net. He barely has any time to consider that, though, as he turns back to look at Jaehyun again.

“He does not look into it,” he says, immediately; Jaehyun’s not even leaning closer to the bartender—if anything, he’s leaning further away. “You’re insane. He does not look into it. Not at all.”

“He kind of does,” Seulgi says, as she pats Taeyong on the shoulder and takes his place by the pool table, "I think he kind of does. Doesn’t he, Joohyun?”

“A little bit,” Joohyun says, “more than a little bit, actually.”

“He doesn’t,” Taeyong insists, again turning to find Jaehyun by the bar. This time, he manages to catch the moment when Jaehyun looks over his shoulder. Their eyes meet and Jaehyun gives him a sheepish grin, though he turns back to the bartender nonetheless.

Taeyong tries not to take that too personally.

Admittedly, he doesn't do a very good job of it.

“Don’t you want him to get with someone?” Joohyun asks, "you complain about him going on fifty dates a month that never seem to work out all the time. Maybe this could be it.”

Taeyong tries not to slump against his cue stick. She’s right, after all. Maybe this _could_ be it and maybe it's time for Taeyong to face the truth that he's an absolutely shitty friend, that he’s been letting whatever remnants of hope he may have of him and Jaehyun getting back together in the way of his friendship with Jaehyun.

“Plus, think about it,” Seulgi says, “if Jaehyun starts dating the bartender, you’ll definitely start getting free drinks. Maybe we won't even have to pay for the pool table. That’d be golden and we could camp out here every week.”

“She’s got a point,” Joohyun tells Taeyong. “Come on, do your best to score Jaehyun a hot date. We deserve it. He deserves it, too, at least a little bit, I think.”

“You think what, exactly?”

“That Taeyong here should do his best to score you a hot date with the bartender,” Joohyun says, tilting her chin in direction of the bar as Seulgi reaches to grab her margarita off Jaehyun’s hands. Somehow, he's managed to balance five drinks in his hands and spill none. “The two of you seem to have really taken a liking to each other.”

“No one’s taken a liking to anyone,” Jaehyun says, rolling his eyes as he passes Joohyun the screwdriver and Taeyong an apple martini. He’s left only with another apple martini—for Doyoung, probably, who’s trying not to look like he’s sulking in the near booth—and a mojito of his own. “No one’s scoring me a date, either.”

His face does become flushed when he says it, eyes dangerously lingering on Taeyong. _He’s gouging my reaction,_ Taeyong thinks and forces a grin.

“Why not?” he says, despite wanting so desperately to stay silent—or shit talk the bartender, make him seem like the most unappealing person out there. “You seemed into him.”

He could say nothing, is the thing. He could—he wants to even, so the conversation ends and he doesn’t have to think about this, at least for the time being, so he can block it out of his mind for the next few days. He could, but it’s not the right thing to do, because Jaehyun is his friend before anything else.

And, besides, if Taeyong feels this shitty about it now, when it wasn’t even someone Jaehyun was showing interest in—genuine interest in—then he doesn’t want to think about how much worse it’ll be when it’s someone Jaehyun genuinely likes, when it’s someone Jaehyun wants to seriously date instead of just take out once and never again.

It’s going to be so much worse and, if anything, he should at least prepare himself for the inevitable.

“I didn’t seem into him,” Jaehyun rolls his eyes, rises on his feet just slightly to swing his arm around Taeyong, forcing him into his side. “And if I did, that’s just because bartenders do be kinda sexy. The moment he’d step out the bar, though, I’m looking away. I do not see.”

“See,” Joohyun says, sending Taeyong a pointed look, “Taeyong zero, everyone else one. Everyone has common sense but Taeyong. I love it here!”

“And Taeyong doesn’t have common sense because…?”

“He said bartenders weren't sexy,” Seulgi says, immediately the first one to snitch. “That all they do is a cheap gimmick. I mean, everyone’s entitled to their own opinions, but sometimes people go a bit too far.”

“I didn’t go a bit too far,” Taeyong huffs, “It’s obvious he was a try hard, pulling all those fucking tricks that don't even look good just to impress you.”

“That is kinda nice, though,” Joohyun points out. “If a girl did that to me, you bet I’d be on my knees proposing the very next day. Or that very same day, honestly. Love wins.”

“Yeah,” Seulgi says wistfully. “Honest to god.”

“It’s not too bad to be a try hard,” Jaehyun says, after a moment, “maybe a bit embarrassing but like. Whatever. I don’t know.” He shrugs, shakes his head, “I’m gonna go check in on Doyoung and give him his drink. You three can continue without me.”

Taeyong furrows his brows as Jaehyun withdraws his hand from Taeyong’s shoulders, not sending Taeyong another look as he goes to Doyoung and slides into his booth. He nearly spills half the drink over the table and Taeyong can’t hold back his smile, amused.

“That was something," Joohyun says, effectively pulling Taeyong’s attention back to her and Seulgi. "Well?”

Taeyong’s about to sigh, about to roll his eyes and go back to playing, but she keeps looking at him like that and his heart sinks in his stomach. Has she figured it out? Or, worse, does she think he’s a bad friend to Jaehyun, one who consistently sabotages his love life?

The two options don’t really differ that much.

“God, you’re so annoying,” he says, passing his stick to Seulgi who gladly takes it, exchanging excited looks with Joohyun. “I’ll be right back. God. Can't stand you sometimes.”

“Good luck,” Seulgi says, sending him a smile.

“And don’t fuck it up,” Joohyun adds, looking much too satisfied at her shitty joke.

iii.

“I had a really nice time,” Taeyong tells Jaehyun, just as the sun is starting to rise up above the horizon. They’re in front of Taeyong’s dorm building, not ready to say goodbye just yet. “On the date.”

“Even the dinner?”

“Mostly everything else,” he says, laughter following his words. Jaehyun’s heart threatens to burst through his chest with everything he feels for Taeyong. “You get my point, though. It was really nice.” He hesitates for a moment, fingers finding the hem of his sweater, “Did you, uh. Did you have a nice time?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says, preening at the way Taeyong smiles at his words. “I did, yeah.”

“That’s really nice,” Taeyong says, before he shakes his head, his cheeks going bright red. “Sorry. I swear I know adjectives other than nice, really. I’m just… uh. Tired?”

“It is really late,” Jaehyun says. “Early. Late? Morning. Sorry for uh, keeping you out for so long.”

“Don’t apologize,” Taeyong says immediately, “it was worth it. For me, at least.”

Taeyong twists his fingers together, though he meets Jaehyun’s gaze straight on, as if challenging him. Jaehyun feels like he’s going to pass out—either from the abundance of Taeyong that spills through his mind or simply from the lack of sleep. Honestly, both are very likely.

“For me, too,” Jaehyun says, barely able to push the words past his lips. “Mostly the—mostly everything after we ditched Yuta and Jungwoo, but I’d sit through a million more of those dinners just to be able to spend the night with you.” The words register in his brain too late and he rushes to backtrack, already feeling his face redden, “uh—like we did, today. In the, you know. Date sense. The pg one. You know. Haha.”

Taeyong looks at him. He’s only able to keep a straight face for a second or two before he laughs. Jaehyun thanks the stars and every deity that’s on the front of his mind for giving him the chance to go out with Taeyong, even if nothing comes out of this.

 _This is enough_ , he thinks.

“I got what you meant as you said it,” he says, after he’s calmed down, “thank you for the clarification, though. Can never be too sure.”

“Very funny.”

“It’s kind of funny,” Taeyong says, his smile shining through his voice. “Not sure if good enough for me to crowdfund a stand-up career, but you never know. Maybe five years from now, you’ll find me at some bar downtown, a mic in my hand.”

“I’ll sit in the front row, I promise,” Jaehyun says, “and laugh at all your jokes. Obviously.”

“Even if they’re not funny?”

“Even if—hm,” he pauses to think about it for a moment, Taeyong looking at him expectantly with his brows raised. “If they’re not a banger, I’ll still pop a chuckle or two. Maybe three.”

“Maybe three,” Taeyong nods, “I couldn’t ask for more, really.”

“You wouldn’t have to ask for more,” Jaehyun says. It feels strangely intimate, strangely honest as he says it, and judging by the way Taeyong’s brows furrow, Taeyong agrees. “Uh—okay. Just ignore that. Look away.”

“No, that was sweet,” Taeyong says, “really sweet. If you had a stand-up show, I promise I’d go see it and laugh as convincingly as I can.”

“Okay, now that’s just mean,” Jaehyun says, though a smile breaks across his face anyway. “I—okay. You can just say you’d laugh.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that?” Taeyong says. “I’d be really convincing, though. I promise. Might not be an actor, but I have been on dates with really unfunny men.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes at him. “Are you—okay,” he says, leaning back, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Am I—hm.”

“Just ask it,” Taeyong says, “I’ll hit you with a banger then, I promise.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, though it’s not like he protests.

“Am I the unfunny men?”

“It depends,” Taeyong shrugs, coy.

“Depends on… what, exactly?”

“Depends on whether or not you kiss me,” Taeyong says. Despite the way he’s talking, the tips of his ears are already reddening, the apples of his cheeks eager to follow, the corners of his lips tugging upwards.

Jaehyun thinks he’s ten seconds away from going insane.

“What does—what does that have to do with my comedic ability,” Jaehyun says, just barely able to remain conscious. In spite of the act he’s trying his hardest to keep up, his eyes betray him, skipping down Taeyong’s face to his lips before he’s able to look up, and Taeyong looks much too pleased.

Well?

“It does,” he says, lightly laughing. “It just does. Trust me.”

“So am I the unfunny men if I kiss you?” Jaehyun says. “I don’t get how this works. Would you mind explaining?”

“Come on, Jaehyun,” Taeyong whines, reaching out to pull on Jaehyun’s wrist. Jaehyun, ever so dutiful, slips his hand out of his pocket so Taeyong can intertwine their fingers together. “You’re supposed to play along. Pretend you’ve got an IQ of three hundred if you must.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Jaehyun says. Taeyong pulls on his hand again, annoyed, and he stumbles forward. “What do you want me to do?”

“I think it's pretty easy to understand,” Taeyong says.

“I’d like to hear you say it, though,” Jaehyun says, pushing his luck.

Taeyong rolls his eyes, though his grasp on Jaehyun’s hand does not loosen in the slightest.

“I want you to kiss me,” he says and Jaehyun can’t help the grin that breaks across his face. He’s unable to do much else than reach out and tuck part of Taeyong’s fringe behind his ear, to which Taeyong raises his brows. “Are you going to kiss me now or do I have to wait longer? Because I’m not sure I have the patience for that, honestly.”

Not one to disappoint, Jaehyun kisses him.

It’s all he ever could have dreamed of. When they part, Taeyong rests his forehead on Jaehyun’s, smiling softly, and Jaehyun can’t get the image of him out of his head. It’s permanently engrained in between all the one direction trivia he’d learned in middle school and the edit of Wooshik from _Train to Busan_ that’s playing on repeat at all times in his brain.

“You’ve gone out once,” Sehun tells him, when Jaehyun recalls it to him for the fifteenth time, a couple of days later. “It can’t be that serious.”

“It is that serious,” Jaehyun sighs, throwing an arm over his eyes if only so he can visualize Taeyong smiling at him, so softly, and immediately his heart threatens to break through his ribs. He’s going a bit insane, sure, that factors into how he’s feeling, but it’s not like he can make himself stop thinking about Taeyong. That’s asking for the impossible, and so long as Taeyong wants him, he’s not going to try and hold himself back from thinking about him. “I’m like. In love with him, practically.”

“Are you?” Sehun asks, skeptical. He glances up from his phone—takes one look at Jaehyun, who’s sprawled out on his bed—and sighs, loudly. “God, I wish Yuta was here. I’d have one of my comrades to fight the good battle with me.”

Yuta’s still kind of pissed off at Jaehyun for not only ditching them but also ignoring all his calls and making him pay for the drinks. It might have been kind of a shit move, Jaehyun can see that, but it’s not like Yuta wasn’t being an asshole, either.

“He’s not here, though,” Jaehyun says, “you’re acting as if I’m being mad delusional. I think I have the right to have feelings for someone.”

Sehun raises his brows, huffing. “You do,” he allows, finally. “I still think you’re being mad delusional, though. Something about being in love too fast. I don’t know.”

“He’s _Taeyong_ , though,” Jaehyun says, “anyone in their right mind would be in love with him, I’m sure.”

“Then shouldn’t you be the odd one out?”

“I hate you,” Jaehyun says, picking up his pillow and throwing it at Sehun, who manages to block it. Fucking jocks. “It’s—god, I don’t know, it just feels right. Like this is where my life’s been heading all along. Like this is the person I’ve been waiting for.”

“Should've repeated that mantra in freshman year,” Sehun says, “maybe then I wouldn’t have to put up with you being such a desperate virgin.”

“Stop bringing that up,” Jaehyun says, “it’s in the past. Shut up. I’m gonna start bringing up how you acted when you were a desperate virgin and it’s gonna stop being so funny.”

“I didn’t act that bad.”

“You did,” Jaehyun says, whining, “not any better than me, in any case. I don’t know why you and Yuta have this superiority to it. We all acted terrible.”

“See, I think I prefer you talking about Taeyong to this, surprisingly,” Sehun says. “Love wins, I guess. I think all marriage is gay marriage.”

“I think you’re the most annoying person I’ve met,” Jaehyun says and it doesn’t look like Sehun can protest, his brows furrowing and his eyes narrowing, before his serious pout pulls into a smile that Jaehyun definitely doesn’t trust.

“You’ve met yourself,” Sehun says. “I think that’s the winner, baby! One gold medal for you, coming right up.”

“You’ve just cost yourself the spot of the best man for my and Taeyong’s wedding,” Jaehyun tells him. “I hope you’re happy.”

“You’ve been on one date,” Sehun stresses. “One date and you’re already planning your wedding? Jaehyun, you’re not a lesbian. Maybe think rationally about this for a minute.”

“I am thinking rationally,” Jaehyun protests, “I am and it’s just—god, I don’t know. I’m serious when I say it seems as if he’s the one for me.”

“Okay,” Sehun says, slowly, clearly unprepared to go about this without Yuta backing him up. “Does he actually? Or are you just going crazy because he’s the first guy that likes you back?”

“He’s not the first guy that likes me back,” Jaehyun protests.

“Who was, then?”

“Jeongguk?”

Sehun hums in response, not looking the smallest bit convinced. “That’s why you’re still together, yeah?”

“You’re an asshole,” Jaehyun tells him and Sehun laughs, loud in the small dorm room. “You’re an asshole and I hate you. I’m telling you, this is going to last.”

“I hope it does,” Sehun sighs, “even if just so you don’t go absolutely insane over this.”

Jaehyun’s going to smother him with his pillow one day, he’s just about sure of it.

ix.

Even almost a week later, the memory of Joohyun and Seulgi teasing him is still fresh in Taeyong’s mind. In any other circumstance, it’d be sweet, but it’s because of them that he’s ended up in this situation, and that's simply an unforgivable offense.

“Doyoung, we need you to judge for us,” Taeyong says, leaning out of Jaehyun’s bedroom and throwing a pen at Doyoung. He manages to hit him on the first try, which isn't too hard, considering he's taking up the whole couch. “Can you do that?”

“If you stop throwing shit at me, then maybe,” Doyoung says as he sits up, letting the blanket fall to the floor and not bothering to pick it up. That’s a bit worrying, and Taeyong makes a mental note to pester him about that later. “What do you need?”

“We’re recreating the scene in every romcom.” Doyoung gives him a confused look and Taeyong sighs. “You have to know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t.”

“No one does,” Jaehyun says, from further inside his room, where he’s standing over the pile of clothes Taeyong pulled out of his wardrobe, ones he deemed acceptable for a date outfit. “Taeyong, just accept the fact that you’re insane and move on.”

“I’m not insane,” Taeyong whines, “it’s the make-over scene where the protagonist tries on different outfits and the best friends—in this case, me and Doyoung—judge how nice they are. It’s so easy to comprehend.”

“Okay, I get what you’re going for,” Doyoung says. “Have decided that if anyone’s the insane one, it’s definitely Jaehyun.”

“Feel like I should stop getting surprised by it always coming down to this,” Jaehyun mutters, shifting through the clothes. “I’m supposed to try on all of these?”

“Yes,” Taeyong says, stepping back inside the room to join Jaehyun by his bed. “It’s… uh, just five outfits, I think.”

“Five outfits,” Jaehyun repeats.

“It's really not that much,” Taeyong says, turning to Jaehyun. “Come on, you’re supposed to be excited about this. This is your date with a hot bartender! You said it yourself, bartenders sexy as shit. And now you have the chance to court one.”

“Stop speaking like an incel, that's my thing,” Jaehyun says, before he shakes his head, “I am excited, this is just a bit… much.”

“It’s not a bit much,” Taeyong says. “This is how I help you get ready for every date, you big baby.”

“It’s a bit much because of how insistent you seem to be on me fucking the bartender tonight,” Jaehyun says, scrunching up his nose. “I didn't even want his number.”

“You did,” Taeyong insists, no matter how much that pains him to say. “You’re welcome, by the way, for giving him yours. Without my help you’d be stuck at home with me, rewatching Vanessa Hudgens's cinematography for the fiftieth time.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad.”

“You’re sweet, but we all know the truth,” Taeyong says, “anyway—try these on, yeah, one by one? And fix your hair, too, so my credible reputation in regard to being your stylist doesn’t get ruined. You go out on the runway like this and Doyoung’ll fire me on sight.”

“The runway?” Jaehyun grins, “it’s just the living room, king.”

“Close your eyes and imagine a runway,” Taeyong says, waving a hand in front of Jaehyun’s eyes, making his smile only widen. “It's that simple."

“And what do you want me to do with the hair?”

“It’s your hair,” Taeyong points out, “I think you should know how to style it?”

“Yeah, but you're the stylist,” Jaehyun says. “Don’t want to ruin your reputation and shit by failing to style my own hair.”

“You’re unbearable,” Taeyong tells him, biting back a smile. “Sit down on the bed.”

Jaehyun does as instructed, careful not to sit on any of the clothes laid out on his mattress, and Taeyong moves to stand in front of him. “Feel like I'm six again and my mom’s figuring out how to give me a proper bowl cut.”

“Keep your imagines to yourself,” Taeyong tells him, gently flicking Jaehyun’s forehead. “No one wants to hear that shit.”

“You don’t want to imagine you’re six and your mom's struggling to give you a bowl cut?”

“It’s not in my list of top ten imagine ideas, if you want me to be completely candid,” Taeyong says, before gently running his fingers through Jaehyun’s hair, which is terribly soft; a direct consequence of him illegally using Doyoung’s expensive shampoo and conditioner. “If she’s just struggling to give you a haircut, though, I’m willing to reconsider.”

“Even if it’s all crooked and shit?”

Taeyong smiles. “Even if it’s all crooked and shit,” he says, trying not to pay too much attention to the way Jaehyun’s looking up at him. He knows, theoretically, that it’s all him projecting, but. “I’d prefer if it wasn’t.”

“You’d pull it off just fine even if it was,” Jaehyun tells him.

“You’re such an unbearable flirt,” Taeyong says, hoping his red cheeks don’t give him away. He swallows, slipping his fingers out of Jaehyun’s hair. He’d barely managed to style any of it, truth be told. “Cannot wait till you finally get a boyfriend and I don’t have to deal with all of this.”

“Well, maybe today’s going to be your lucky day.”

“Sure hope so,” Taeyong lies, lightly ruffling Jaehyun’s hair one last time before he slips his hands into his pockets, mostly to regain some control over them, and leans back on his heels. “I think you’re good to go?”

“I think he’s been good to go,” Doyoung sighs and Taeyong jumps, turning around to find him leaning on Jaehyun’s doorway. He sends the two of them a bored look, “can’t you hurry this up? I do have to go to Haseul’s at some point.”

“Her dog isn’t going to rat you out if you’re twenty minutes late,” Jaehyun says.

“You’re barely one to talk when your date is in less than an hour,” Doyoung says, rolling his eyes, before he gestures for Taeyong to come to him. “Come on, we’ll wait in the living room for the grand finale of Jaehyun’s… date race? Pretend that makes sense.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes though he lets Doyoung grab his hand, “it makes absolutely no sense,” he tells him, before turning back to send Jaehyun a smile, “good luck!”

“So, what’s going on?” Doyoung asks him, the moment they’ve both sat down on the couch. He’s got his arm around Taeyong, frown etched on his face. “Are you going to tell me or do I have to pry it out of you as per usual?”

“What do you mean, what’s going on,” Taeyong asks, pushing Doyoung’s arm off his shoulders. “Is there supposed to be something going on? Because nothing is.”

Doyoung narrows his eyes at him. “See, now you’ve overcompensated,” he says after a moment, unable to keep his stoic expression and breaking out into a grin as he pokes Taeyong’s side. “Why are you acting weird?”

“I’m not acting weird,” Taeyong says, exasperated. “What even made you think that?”

“You _are_ acting weird.”

“God, I think you’re hallucinating and slowly losing your mind,” Taeyong says, immediately falling victim to Doyoung shoving him. “I’m not acting weird. Can I count on you to remember that?”

Doyoung shoves him again. “This isn’t going to make me drop this, just so you know. Something’s going on, isn’t it? It’s been going on, ever since we went out to the, uh, the pool bar with your coworkers. Former coworkers. Did they say anything? Did they do anything?”

“They’re my friends, they didn’t say anything,” Taeyong says.

“So maybe they didn't say anything, but you’re still acting too invested in this," Doyoung says, “in Jaehyun going out. It’s just one of his million dates. What’s got you so hooked up on him getting with this bartender?”

“Nothing,” Taeyong says, “I just think they’d be a good match.”

He does not. The bartender was stale as all shit in the short talk they’ve had, though in all honesty he did seem enamored by Jaehyun. And Jaehyun deserves someone like that, someone who’s willing to give him their all without any hesitation.

Taeyong wasn’t able to give him that, back when they got together, and look where that got them.

Doyoung narrows his eyes at Taeyong, opening his mouth to continue pestering him, probably, but he doesn’t get the chance, because Jaehyun leans out of his bedroom.

“You guys ready?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung sighs, throwing his arm around the back of the couch and sending Taeyong one last look— _we’ll talk about this later—_ and Taeyong makes another mental note in the back of his head to avoid Doyoung for the next two days until he forgets about this. “Come on out, king.”

iv.

Dating Taeyong is heaven, Jaehyun thinks.

They’ve been on three dates, so far—not that Jaehyun’s counting. Jaehyun’s favorite still has to be their very first, since he’s a humble man who can’t forget his roots, but all of them fit the first five of his top ten best moments list. Besides that, they hang out a lot, Jaehyun walking him to and from class or—if it’s one of the classes they share—spending the whole hour slipping each other stupid notes, Jaehyun smuggling him coffee into the library, or them just straight vibing at Jaehyun’s dorm.

That’s what they’re doing right now, actually. It has two strong advantages; one, Jaehyun gets to annoy Sehun free of charge by kicking him out of their dorm room and two, Taeyong’s much more comfortable with physical contact in private than he is in public.

“Jae, come on,” Taeyong whines, even though a smile’s pulling at his lips. “I’m studying. Stop trying to distract me.”

They’re sitting on the floor, from which Jaehyun has diligently picked up Sehun’s (and some of his own) dirty laundry, so it wouldn’t look like an absolute pigsty. He’d also taken care of the garbage and all of the other random shit lying around, stuffing it mostly into Sehun’s dresser.

Taeyong’s currently trying to work out his math homework; Jaehyun’s got barely any clue how well it’s going, considering that when he leans over Taeyong’s shoulder, he understands precisely three percent of it. Judging by the amount of scribbled out work, though, it’s not going great.

“I’m not trying to distract you,” Jaehyun says. He rests his cheek on Taeyong’s shoulder. “I’m trying to figure out what you’re doing.”

“You and me both,” Taeyong says, sighing. “I hate math. Why do I even have to do this shit?”

“You should’ve thought of that before majoring in economics,” Jaehyun teases, turning his head to press his lips against the crook of Taeyong’s neck. “Why didn’t you go into fashion? You mentioned that you’re into that.”

“Shouldn’t you be glad that I didn’t?” Taeyong says. At Jaehyun’s lack of response, he adds, “our uni doesn’t have a fashion major. We wouldn’t even have met if I’d gone into fashion.”

“We might have,” Jaehyun muses, “you never know.”

“I’d rather have met you now than when we’re hags,” Taeyong tells him. He writes something down on his sheet of paper before crossing it out furiously, and Jaehyun kisses his skin again. “I—well, maybe that would’ve been a moment, but I think this is much nicer.”

“It is,” Jaehyun agrees. “I’m glad we met now, if only so we can spend more time together. Not to mention that, I don’t know. Dating you’s been really nice so far.”

“Stop being sweet,” Taeyong says, his whole face going red. “It’s not going to get me to drop my work and fuck you.”

“I wasn’t trying to get you to fuck me,” Jaehyun protests, “I was being sincere. Ever heard of that?”

“Be sincere when I’m not busy,” Taeyong tells him.

Jaehyun hums, rolling his eyes. He settles on watching as Taeyong continues to struggle with the math exercises, typing them into his oversized calculator and checking the answers. Nothing seems to be going right, judging by how he’s groaning and sighing every few seconds.

“This is boring,” Jaehyun says, if only to try and convince Taeyong to take a break which he looks like he needs. He reaches to gently ruffle the back of Taeyong’s hair, “can’t we do literally anything else?”

“Stop being so horny,” Taeyong tells him, though he doesn’t make a single move to push Jaehyun away. “I told you I was going over to study. Couldn’t you have cranked one out in the shower or some shit?”

Jaehyun blinks.

It takes him a moment to process the words properly but once he does, he coughs, and Taeyong can’t seem to hold back his laughter any more, bursting out into loud giggles before taking the chance to elbow Jaehyun away.

“You’re impossible,” Jaehyun says from where he ended up sprawled out on the floor, his face reddening much too quickly. A glance at Taeyong reveals that he’s blushing, too, though he’s still smiling smugly under his breath.

“It did the trick, didn’t it?” Taeyong asks. He looks over his shoulder, meeting Jaehyun’s eyes, and Jaehyun’s gaze skids away from his so fast. Taeyong laughs, again, reaching out to pat Jaehyun’s thigh. “We can do something else after I at least finish this page, okay? I’m already doing bad in class.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” Jaehyun says, gently. “If you want, we could go to the library or I could take you there or something.”

“No, it’s okay,” Taeyong says after a moment. His hand stills on Jaehyun’s thigh, before he pats it again and goes back to pick up his pen. “I do like spending time with you.”

“Are you sure? The library’s going to help you get your work done faster, probably—”

“—okay,” Taeyong says, taking a deep breath. “You don’t get to use this against me, and you’re going to forget about this in five minutes, but I don’t mind it when you, uh. When you distract me.”

“I distract you at the library, too,” Jaehyun points out, brows pulling together as he pushes himself up on his elbows. The tips of Taeyong’s ears burn, bright against the backdrop of his dark hair.

“Playing footsie isn’t exactly the same thing as this,” Taeyong says, his voice strained. He clears his throat, shaking his head. “And you know, the privacy isn’t such a bad thing either.”

Jaehyun hums in response. He’s got half a mind to continue teasing Taeyong but he already looks on the brink of everything, his ears so red they must be scorching hot to the touch. “Sehun’s majoring in economics, too. I could ask him to help you?”

“No, no, no,” Taeyong rushes to say, shaking his head quickly, “it’s fine. No, uh, don’t worry about it.”

“I know he seems really bad,” Jaehyun says, a bit confused. He knows Sehun and Taeyong have a course or two together, but from what Sehun said, they haven’t really interacted, not even once. “He’s kind of an asshole, but he is good at what he studies. He could help you.”

“He’s probably busy,” Taeyong says, “it’s fine. I’ll ask one of my friends for help. Or marathon youtube videos explaining how to do these. No need to involve him.”

Jaehyun frowns, cocking his head to the side.

“Is there—do you have some sort of drama with him?”

Taeyong can’t help the giggles that bubble out his mouth, apparently, as he turns to look at Jaehyun with an incredulous look on his face. “Are you jealous?”

“I’m just curious.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes, still grinning. He reaches to hit Jaehyun’s knee with his pen, pretending he’s playing the drums. “I’ve never talked to him, so you have nothing to worry about,” he teases and Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I just—I don’t know. Meeting your friends kind of, uh, seems like a lot right now, especially since—well, you know.”

“Especially since what?”

“Don’t make me say it,” Taeyong says. Jaehyun’s still confused until he figures that Taeyong means Jaehyun’s been kicking out Sehun from the dorm room for the past couple of weeks. To be fair, Sehun has been kind of annoyed about that, so it’s not like Taeyong doesn’t have a point.

“It’s okay, I don’t have to ask him,” Jaehyun says and Taeyong gives him a grateful smile as he turns back to his work. “He’s not that mad about being locked out from the dorm room, though, just so you know.”

“Shit—that’s another thing I didn’t consider,” Taeyong says and Jaehyun’s brows knot together before he shakes his head, making a mental note to come back to that later, maybe. “He must hate me. He must hate you. God, I’m really sorry. He must—oh, fuck. Maybe we should go to the library. We should probably go to the library.”

Before Jaehyun can say anything, Taeyong’s already closing his textbook, sweeping all of his things into a neat pile and getting up to leave.

“I’ll get more done, too, so,” he’s saying when Jaehyun manages to come to his senses and nearly jumps to his feet, stopping Taeyong as he tries to get to his backpack. “Jae, come on, I need to—”

“—it’s okay,” Jaehyun says, hands landing on Taeyong’s shoulders, thumbs skimming his skin. Nearly immediately, his shoulders seem to relax, even if just a bit. “He doesn’t hate me. Or you. And he’s not even truly being locked out, because he has shit to do, anyway.”

Taeyong chews on his bottom lip, looking anywhere but at Jaehyun. “Does he?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says, giving Taeyong a soft smile as he reaches to grab his hand, “he does. And he locks me out way more often than I lock him out, so.”

Taeyong still doesn’t look entirely convinced as he looks up to meet Jaehyun’s eyes. He gets like this sometimes, Jaehyun’s noticed, jumpy for no particular reason—especially when either of their friends are mentioned. He’s not going to pry, not now, figuring if it’s something serious, Taeyong’ll share it with him when he’s ready.

“Come on,” he says for now, pulling Taeyong towards his bed, swiping his laptop off his nightstand, “you into watching a movie?”

“I have to work,” Taeyong protests, weakly. “and what if Sehun’ll want to come back?”

“If Sehun will want to come back, I’ll simply kick you out,” Jaehyun teases, though they both know the truth; he could never bring himself to do that. “And you’re not really getting much done, anyway.”

“That was uncalled for!”

“Also the truth,” Jaehyun says, just managing to get out of the way when Taeyong goes to jab him in the side with his finger. “So, what do you say?”

“Fine,” Taeyong says, rolling his eyes as if he would’ve needed more convincing, though he’d settled by Jaehyun’s side comfortably the moment they got on the bed. “So long as we watch _Honey, I Shrunk the Kids_.”

x.

Taeyong has a bad habit of falling asleep on the couch.

It’s not his fault, necessarily. It’s just—lying on the couch is nice, because even if it’s not really any more comfortable than his bed, there’s a bigger chance that either Doyoung or Jaehyun will sit down next to him and/or cuddle him, if they’re home. That’s not exactly the case today, considering Doyoung’s busy dogsitting and Jaehyun’s on a date with the bartender.

Today, it’s more of a matter of the exhaustion Taeyong feels, building up behind his eyelids. That’s what he tells himself, at least, as it gets later and later and he postpones going to bed. He’s watching some home renovation tv-show (they’ve finally figured out that the remote wasn’t broken, but that it simply needed new batteries) and he really wants to see the end result.

So he stays on the couch. So he tries to stay awake, no matter how heavy his eyelids get, no matter how tired he feels. So he tries to watch the end result, only to miss it by falling asleep.

Taeyong only wakes up when something loud clatters in the hallway of the apartment. He’s alarmed, at first, blinking his eyes open furiously, before he hears the telltale, “fuck,” and doesn’t have to guess who’s come home.

He settles back on the couch, as quietly as he can, letting his eyes fall closed. Jaehyun’s just gullible enough to believe that Taeyong slept through the ruckus and, if all works out well, Taeyong might just be able to jump scare him, like Jaehyun’s scared _him_ countless other times.

Until Jaehyun comes up to check if he’s sleeping, though, it’s a waiting game.

It’s going to take him a few minutes before he does, probably, judging by the noise he’s still making. Taeyong hears Jaehyun’s keys clatter in the little bowl they have set up by the entrance, hears what he presumes to be his coat fall to the floor once, twice, hears him kick off his shoes.

Maybe this wasn’t a great idea, Taeyong thinks, as Jaehyun goes to wash his hands, feeling his consciousness start to slip out of his grip once again. Soon enough and he’s going to fall asleep for real once more. He doesn’t risk trying to wake up by opening his eyes nor shifting in his spot, because he can hear footsteps coming closer.

Jaehyun must have crouched down near the couch, because all of a sudden Taeyong gets a strong whiff of the cologne Jaehyun’s wearing. It’s not his usual one and it’s not Doyoung’s either, though it does seem familiar. It only clicks when Taeyong feels Jaehyun tuck his hair behind his ear—it’s not Jaehyun’s cologne nor Doyoung’s. It’s Taeyong’s.

“Hey,” Jaehyun says, his voice low, soft, and despite the fact that he’s talking to Taeyong, Taeyong feels like he’s eavesdropping. “No fucking wonder I can’t get over you.”

Taeyong feels the blood in his veins freeze.

What.

 _What_.

Jaehyun sighs, not privy to Taeyong’s current break-down, before he drags the blanket over Taeyong further up his shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of Taeyong’s head. Taeyong’s only able to relax and let his nerves dissolve back into his body when he hears Jaehyun walk away, hears him turn on the kettle.

That—that wasn’t real, was it? Jaehyun didn’t say that. Jaehyun didn’t imply that he’s had the same problem as Taeyong for the past four years—no, surely not. Taeyong must’ve imagined it, must’ve drifted just far enough into sleep that he’d started dreaming while still half-awake—that he’d started hallucinating. Hearing things.

Yeah, that’d check out.

Taeyong has to pretend to sleep for the next however many minutes until Jaehyun makes a cacophony of noises in the kitchen, first dropping and probably shattering a cup, and then struggling to take out some pot or pan out of their cupboards.

“Jaehyun?”

Jaehyun turns from where he must’ve been leaning over the stove, lips stretching out into a smile.

“Did I wake you up?” he asks, showing no sign of having practically confessed to Taeyong just a few minutes ago. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replies, sitting up on the couch before deciding that he might as well get up. He pushes the blanket off himself, trying to forget that Jaehyun was the one that covered him with it. “What time is it?”

“Eleven pm,” Jaehyun says. “Half past eleven, actually, but it’s about the same thing.”

“It’s really not.” He stands up, stretching his arms over his head, and Jaehyun looks back to the stove. “Why are you back so early? You barely spent any time with your date.”

“He was just such a fucking bore,” Jaehyun says and Taeyong can’t help but laugh. “Spent the whole date just waiting till I could get home to—till I could get home and do anything else. Seriously. A real nightmare.”

“Wasn’t he hot, though?” Taeyong asks, despite every muscle in his body telling him not to.

“Not hot enough to stay any longer,” Jaehyun says and despite everything Taeyong feels triumphant. “It’s like I said; all bartenders lose their charm the minute they step out from behind the bar.”

“Maybe they’re just not that charming to begin with.”

“Maybe,” Jaehyun laughs, opening the fridge and pulling out eggs and their last stick of butter, setting it on the counter. “I’m making french toast, you want any?”

“No thanks,” Taeyong says, pulling himself up to sit on the counter, careful to not hit the back of his head against the cupboards. He’s done that more than once, regretfully. “You’re just going to burn it.”

“I’m not going to burn it,” Jaehyun whines, even though he burned pancakes just the day before. “I’m good at cooking.”

“You’re good at cooking, I’ll give you that, but not breakfast foods,” Taeyong says, “or desserts.”

Jaehyun sighs, his eyebrows jumping up in mock irritation. “I’ll take it, I guess, thanks.”

Taeyong doesn’t respond, watching as Jaehyun takes a slice of butter and places it on the pan that’s just beginning to heat up, as he rinses the egg and cracks it into a plate, using a fork to whisk it before he adds in cinnamon, too much of it accidentally spilling out the small container. He makes no notice of it, though, mixing it in, and pretending it doesn’t leave any remnants around the plate.

It’s only when he’s cutting the toast slice in half, lightly dipping it into the egg, that Jaehyun speaks again.

“Were you waiting for me?” he asks. It sounds and feels strangely sincere, with the way he won’t even meet Taeyong’s eyes. Taeyong swings his legs back and forth from the counter. “To come back from my date, I mean.”

Taeyong looks up at Jaehyun, gently tracing his features with his eyes. He’s focused completely on making the french toast, but the tips of his ears have gone red.

Should he risk it? Taeyong’s not sure.

“What would you do if I had been waiting for you?” he asks. Jaehyun’s hands still as he’s in the middle of transferring the soaked toast into the pan.

“I… don’t know,” he admits, brows furrowing before he sets the toast in the pan, gently maneuvering it into place with his fork. “Were you?”

“Maybe,” he allows and Jaehyun looks up at him, eyes wide and confused as he tries to make sense of the situation. “I might have been waiting for you.”

“Huh,” Jaehyun turns to face him, leaning his hand by the stove. He’s got his sleeves pulled up to his elbows—not well enough, though, since they’re slowly slipping down. “Um. Any reason why?”

 _I’m in love with you_ seems a bit too hard to push past his throat right now.

“Uh,” Taeyong hesitates, “I—I wanted to see you when you got home?”

It’s as genuine as he can force himself to be, as close to the truth as he can push out his mouth.

“You didn’t have to wait up for me,” Jaehyun says, missing the point entirely.

“I know,” Taeyong says. He twists his hands in his lap, a bit nervous. “I know I didn’t have to, but it’s just—it’s just that I,” something flares up in the corner of his eyes, too bright for their dim kitchen, “uh—is your sleeve on fire?”

“Huh?” Jaehyun says before he looks down at his arm. His sleeve has slipped down completely to his hands, managing to come just close enough to the fire from the stove, and Taeyong wishes they invested in switching out for a flat stove top years ago. “Holy shit. Holy shit—fuck.”

Jaehyun tries to shake the fire off for some insane reason, only fanning the flames and making them expand. Taeyong watches for a second, too stunned to do anything, before he comes to his senses. He hops off the counter and grabs one of their dishtowels, rinsing it under the sink and pressing it to the bottom of Jaehyun’s arm. The fire sizzles out almost immediately, ignoring Jaehyun’s yelps.

“You’re supposed to stop moving if you catch on fire,” Taeyong tells him, reaching to turn off the stove, the half-done french toast long forgotten. He leads Jaehyun to the sink, prying the towel off his shirt and sticking his arm under the cold water. “Don’t you remember a single fire safety class?”

“Those were in like, fourth grade,” Jaehyun says, leaning against the counter. His arm’s flaring up red as he holds it under the cold water and Taeyong gently folds up the sleeve over his burn, this time much more secure so it has absolutely no chances of slipping down. “You mean the whole stop, drop, and roll thing?”

“What else could I mean,” Taeyong replies, exasperated. The burn starts at the tips of his knuckles and goes a bit above his wrist, but it doesn’t look like anything worse than a first-degree burn. “God, you’re so dumb sometimes, Jae.”

“Like to think it’s one of my best qualities,” Jaehyun says, watching as Taeyong searches through the cabinet with medicine for something to treat his burn—preferably some sort of burn ointment but aloe vera will do, he decides, when it’s the only thing he can find.

“I think it’s one of your worst,” Taeyong says, setting aloe vera on the counter and joining Jaehyun by the sink, peering gently at the burn. “That looks… well. Let’s just say it doesn’t look great.”

“It’s not that bad. I’ve definitely had worse from the café,” Jaehyun argues, slumping further over the sink, letting his head rest on the counter. “Didn’t even manage to make french toast right. This is a nightmare. I hate it here.”

“I think you’ve got worse things to worry about than your fucking french toast,” Taeyong says, though he withholds a sigh as he makes his way back to the stove, flipping it on. It’s not tedious, but he really doesn’t feel like going through the whole ordeal of making french toast; he might as well try and save what’s left of the half-done one. “Does it hurt?”

“You clowning me? Yes, very,” Jaehyun says. at Taeyong’s dry look, he adds, “no, not really. It stings a bit maybe, but it’s fine.” He switches off the faucet, grabbing one of the paper towels and wincing as he presses it to the burn.

“At least the fire alarm didn’t go off.”

“Doyoung’s still going to be merciless when he finds out about the whole thing, though,” Jaehyun says, “and my shirt is kind of ruined.”

“It’s—yeah, okay, kinda,” Taeyong says, eying the damage inflicted on Jaehyun’s shirt warily. It’s one of the only shirts he owns that’s actually nice _and_ fits him well, not too loose around the shoulders and arms. “I can try to just make the sleeves shorter. Like, just give it short sleeves, I mean.”

“That’d probably be better than nothing, if you don't mind—”

“—probably?” Taeyong teases, incredulous. “You’re supposed to have some faith in my skills at this point. This is just embarrassing, if I’m to be honest.”

“Embarrassing for you?”

“Haha, very funny. Embarrassing for you for underestimating me.”

“Right, of course,” Jaehyun says, pulling the drawer under the sink open with his foot, throwing away the used paper towel. “Where’s that aloe vera gel?”

v.

Something seems to have happened, because Taeyong's been acting off-kilter lately. He’s a lot more skittish when in public with Jaehyun and, even in the privacy of Jaehyun’s dorm, he begins to lean away from Jaehyun most times, declining every invitation to cuddle on his bed. Declining half of Jaehyun’s invitations for him to come over, too, or texting Jaehyun to say that he can’t come to their next date, so on and so on.

The problem is, Jaehyun’s not exactly sure what caused this.

The moment it begins—or at least the earliest moment where something feels off—is exactly a month after they’d gotten together. In celebration of that, Jaehyun drags Taeyong to some nice bubble tea place, after Sehun gently steered him away from a more formal date, one that he’d been originally planning.

“Happy one month,” Jaehyun says in the back of the café. It’s empty besides them and the employees, but he keeps his voice down anyway. He reaches for Taeyong’s hand under the table and Taeyong only holds it for a moment before he lets go.

“Happy one month,” Taeyong echoes back, his shoulders tense.

The rest of the date is the same, with Taeyong being continuously out of it. It only gets better once they get to Jaehyun’s dorm and even then it’s weird. It’s weird mostly because dating Taeyong has been surprisingly comfortable up to this point; while sure, Jaehyun is reasonably nervous before each date, the feeling fizzles away the moment he and Taeyong get to talking or even just sitting in the same space. It feels as if they’ve known each other for years, usually, but lately it feels as if they’re seven and their mothers are forcing them to spend time together.

Not always, though.

“Maybe he’s getting tired of you,” Yuta tells him, when Jaehyun recounts this problem to him. Unsurprisingly, this does not help at all, though Jaehyun guesses that’s on purpose; Yuta’s still a bit mad at him after the whole double date ordeal. “Isn’t this how Sehun acts with Taeil? Maybe Taeyong’s, you know, gearing up to—”

“—don’t say it,” Jaehyun says, though he knows Yuta’s got a bit of a point. “Don’t you dare say it.”

“I’m just trying to keep you prepared,” Yuta says, “you know, for what might happen in the upcoming days.”

“He won’t break up with you, Jaehyun,” Sehun interrupts, sending Yuta a pointed look. He’s probably mostly only tuning into the conversation so he doesn’t have to hear a moping Jaehyun cry about this for the next few days, but Jaehyun’s not going to focus on that. “He’s like, I don’t know, maybe something’s up with him.”

“Isn’t it how you act with Taeil, though?”

“It's not,” Sehun says. Yuta stares at him—as does Jaehyun—until he sighs. “Okay, it kind of is, but—”

“—so he is going to break up with me,” Jaehyun says.

“Yuta’s just egging you on,” Sehun says, as if he doesn’t do the same most days. “He’s just being stupid. Taeyong probably has… I don’t know, maybe he has some big assignments due.”

“Do you have any big assignments due?” Yuta asks, grinning.

“No,” Sehun says, knotting his brows. “I don’t see how that relates to anything.”

“You’re both economics majors,” Jaehyun says, the epiphany just hitting him. That’s what Yuta is grinning so much about. “If you don’t have much work, then he likely doesn’t have much work, either.”

“The work was just an example,” Sehun says, picking up his phone. He types on it while he continues, “it could be anything, I don’t know. Maybe he’s in some trouble. Maybe his friend’s in some trouble. Maybe he’s, I don’t know, low on cash.” He finishes typing, meeting Jaehyun’s eyes as Yuta’s phone pings, “it’s probably not you, unless you’ve done anything to upset him. Have you done anything to upset him?”

“Uh,” Jaehyun stammers, trying to think.

“Fuck you, too, Sehun,” Yuta says, presumably in response to whatever Sehun sent him.

“Have you done anything to upset him?” Sehun repeats, ignoring Yuta entirely. “If you have, get him some, I don’t know. Some flowers or chocolates or something. Gays love that shit.”

“God, maybe I have done something wrong,” Jaehyun says. It would add up—he did something wrong, which led to Taeyong acting weird, which is inevitably going to lead to Taeyong breaking up with him. “This is a nightmare.”

“If you did, it’s probably nothing you can’t fix,” Sehun says.

Yuta’s phone pings again. Yuta sighs, heavily, the moment after reading whatever text he got from Sehun again, and adds, “yeah.”

Jaehyun’s not entirely convinced.

He’s trying not to think about it, though, especially the following week, when Taeyong unexpectedly shows up in front of Jaehyun’s lecture hall, demanding Jaehyun make some time for him and dragging him to Taeyong’s dorm. Jaehyun’s only been there a couple of times before; the first and notably the longest time he’d been in Taeyong’s dorm room was when they were repotting the Christmas cactus. The other few times had been when picking Taeyong up for whatever reason, which collectively add up to Jaehyun spending less than five minutes there.

It’s a stark contrast to how much time Taeyong’s spent in Jaehyun’s dorm room, but it’s likely not too significant. It’s just that Jaehyun’s room is free, most of the time, Sehun fucking around and doing something else, while Taeyong’s roommate has a knack for staying inside.

“Taeil’s out for the day,” Taeyong tells him, dragging him up the stairs to his floor. He’s holding Jaehyun’s hand, his grip on it tight, and whatever worries Jaehyun might’ve had flood out of his head. “So we have the room to ourselves.”

“We could’ve just gone to mine,” Jaehyun reasons, “that’s what we always do, anyway.”

“Yeah, and it's getting too obvious,” Taeyong says. Jaehyun doesn’t get it, though before he has the chance to ask what he means, exactly, Taeyong adds, “but it’s whatever. So long as he doesn’t, uh. You know.”

“Yeah, totally,” Jaehyun lies, deciding not to ask Taeyong in case it'd dampen his enthusiasm. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment, anyway, as Taeyong turns to grin at him, unlocking the door.

“I was thinking we could watch a movie,” Taeyong suggests, “I just remembered Twilight exists.”

“Were you a Twilight fanatic?” Jaehyun asks. “Wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

“I wasn’t a Twilight fanatic,” Taeyong says, “I just think Emmett is mad sexy. Stupid, funny, jacked. I think he’s the ideal man.”

“Will keep that in mind,” Jaehyun says, making a mental note to maybe check out the gym next week if he has the energy to get out of bed in the morning. “Which part are we watching?”

“I just watched the first movie yesterday so I thought we could watch _New Moon_ today,” Taeyong says, pushing the door open. He lets Jaehyun in, closing the door behind him.

Taeyong’s room is organized, a bunch of decorations stuck to the wall or spread over his desk. Jaehyun can spot a polaroid picture Taeyong’d taken of the two of them after one of their dates—a definite good sign, because he’s at least not getting rid of their memorabilia just yet—and what seems to be some of the notes they’ve passed to each other peeking out of Taeyong’s desk drawer.

It’s sweet.

The other side of Taeyong’s room, though, is a mess of aesthetics. It looks more alike to Jaehyun and Sehun’s room when neither of them feel like cleaning, which is more often than not. There’s shit clearly pushed under the bed, peeking out, with what seems to be an old banana peel half hanging off the nightstand.

“That's Taeil’s side,” Taeyong tells him when he notices Jaehyun staring. He's busy pulling up the movie on his laptop, already sitting cross-legged on his bed. “Sorry it’s so dirty, but on god I’m not cleaning that. It’s a nightmare. I can’t imagine how someone is even able to live in those conditions.”

“Haha, yeah,” Jaehyun says, trying not to think that this is exactly how his bedroom looked all through out high school as he crosses the room to Taeyong’s bed, taking a tentative seat on it.

Everything seems a bit too foreign for him to be comfortable, likely as a result of both him barely ever visiting Taeyong’s dorm room and the way their relationship has been strained recently.

“You’re allowed to make yourself comfortable here, you do know that, right?” Taeyong says, moving to sit further up the bed, leaning against the wall. He stretches his legs out in front of him, balancing the laptop on them, before patting the space next to him. “Sit next to me?”

“I think I have to, otherwise I wouldn’t even see the screen,” Jaehyun scoffs, though he does move to sit next to Taeyong, who immediately takes his hand, threading his fingers through Jaehyun’s. “Figure that eliminates the whole point of watching a movie.”

“Not exactly,” Taeyong says, leaning forward to start the movie. The opening credits start playing but Jaehyun’s far more interested in Taeyong, who’s sporting a smug smile.

“What is the whole point of watching a movie if not… watching it, then?”

“The fact that we get to cuddle?” Taeyong says and Jaehyun can’t help but reciprocate his smile. “Though I promise this is going to be a masterpiece, if you’ve never seen it. Have you ever seen the Twilight movies?”

“No,” Jaehyun says, “so far I’ve managed to stay away from them.”

“I think you’re wrong for that one,” Taeyong tells him, “this one’s going to be a blast, I promise.”

It turns out that Taeyong’s not entirely wrong because Jaehyun’s enraptured by the movie within the first five minutes. It’s a bit stupid, definitely not something that should’ve ever hit the theaters, but it’s entertaining in its absurdity nonetheless.

Or—it’s entertaining just until the Bella and Edward break-up scene begins.

Taeyong leans towards Jaehyun and says, “oh, this is going to slap,” and Jaehyun, as someone rational, is expecting a romantic scene. It’s clearly not leading up to that, considering the somber music and the expressions both Bella and Edward are sporting.

“What’s going on?”

“They’re going to break up,” Taeyong says, “it’s insane. They’re insane for this scene but it’s also so—it’s so much. I am kind of obsessed with it.”

Jaehyun nods, falling silent as he focuses on the movie again. Edward stares at Bella, looking kind of creepy, before he breaks to her the news of his family having to move towns.

“I belong with you,” Bella says, when he tells her that she doesn't belong in his world.

“No, you don’t," Edward replies.

Jaehyun's moments away from having a stroke—it all seems much too familiar to everything that's going on in his life right now.

“I don’t want you to come," Edward says, catching Jaehyun’s attention again.

“You don't want me?”

“No,” Edward says, easy, definite, and something in Jaehyun snaps.

“Did something happen?” he asks, turning to Taeyong, who’s still focused on the movie.

“I mean—yeah,” Taeyong says. He doesn’t take his eyes off the screen. “Edward just broke up with Bella—it’s to protect her from his brother, because he is still in love with her but can’t live with the fact that he’s putting her in danger, and—”

“—no,” Jaehyun says, “I mean with us.”

“Uh,” Taeyong turns to look at him, his brows knotting together. “Should something have happened…?”

“I hope not,” Jaehyun says, “it’s just, uh. You’ve been acting a bit off, lately, and I don’t know whether it’s something I did—and if it is, please tell me. And I’m really sorry, in advance, and, uh, yeah.”

Taeyong stares at him. His features remain stoic for a moment, but his eyes seem stressed in the way they circle between Jaehyun and looking away from him, the way his fingers start pressing patterns into the fabric of his pants.

“No,” he says, finally, and it doesn’t sound like the truth.

“If something happened, you can tell me,” Jaehyun says. “I—I mean, if something happened, it’d probably be best if we talked about it? So we could, uh, solve it, and move on. Or if you have some issue with me then—”

“—I don’t have any issue with you,” Taeyong says. He pushes the laptop off his legs, not bothering to pause the movie, before bringing his knees up to his chest and turning to Jaehyun. He sets their joined hands on his knees, thumb skimming over Jaehyun’s knuckles. “I don’t have any issue with you,” he repeats, finally, “you’re perfect. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I’ve done some things wrong,” Jaehyun reasons.

“You’ve done some things wrong, yeah,” Taeyong amends, smiling. “Nothing this time, though. You’re in the clear, I swear.”

Jaehyun nods, unsure. “Then is it something else? Like. Besides me? An outside factor?”

“I—uh,” Taeyong starts, back to avoiding his gaze. “I guess so, yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Taeyong says, immediately, “it’s nothing serious, though, I promise.”

 _It seems at least a bit serious if it's got you acting like this,_ Jaehyun wants to say, but that seems like an asshole move.

“Okay,” he settles on, not sure what to add. There’s something definitely going on, especially now that Taeyong’s confirmed it, but what’s he to do about it, when Taeyong isn’t telling him anything?

“I promise it's okay,” Taeyong says, again, “it’s nothing serious. I just, uh. I need to figure some things out? Sorry, I know this is very vague and everything but it’s. Uh.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jaehyun says. “You don't have to force yourself to talk about it. You shouldn’t, really. It’s fine, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong says.

“It’s okay,” Jaehyun responds, not quite sure if that’s true or not. “It’s whatever. We can go back to watching the movie.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Taeyong insists, “I thought you didn't notice.”

Jaehyun stares at him, unsure of what to say. Was he supposed to not notice? He would have to be blind not to notice, considering that Taeyong changed almost completely, withdrawing from every touch as if they were Adam Driver and Scarjo in _The Marriage Story_. Would Taeyong have preferred if he acted like nothing happened? Wouldn't that have made him an asshole? Or would that have made him a better boyfriend?

Jaehyun’s not sure. The only thing he’s sure of right now is that he's got a headache building at the forefront of his mind, blocking all rational thoughts.

“It’s fine,” Jaehyun says. “It doesn’t matter.”

Taeyong’s shoulders slump.

“This isn’t your fault,” he says and, uh oh, alarms go off in Jaehyun’s head. This sounds dangerously close to a break-up speech. “It’s not, okay? And I do really like you.” His voice strains when he says it and Jaehyun tries not to bring too much attention to it, though his mind's never been one to listen to him. “I really like you. Just need to, uh, figure a few things out?”

“I hope it’s not whether you’re actually straight,” Jaehyun says and Taeyong opens his mouth, closes it, before he laughs. Jaehyun’s unable to stop his smile and it seems right, then, as if he had nothing to worry about.

“It’s definitely not about that,” Taeyong says.

“Are you going to prove it?”

“Am I going to—oh,” Taeyong says, shoving Jaehyun, “you just want to make-out.”

“Of course I want to make-out,” Jaehyun says. “I’ve got a hot boyfriend and instead of making-out we’re watching Twilight, of all things. And talking about shit. Think we could be doing so many other things.”

“You’re so annoying,” Taeyong tells him, though he’s smiling as he kisses him.

As stupid as it sounds, kissing Taeyong is always nice. It feels different than it had when Jaehyun kissed any of his other short-term boyfriends. It feels as if everything's clicking into place—and that’s the most cliché thought Jaehyun’s had about Taeyong, one that he’s definitely going to be made fun of by Sehun and Yuta if they ever hear about it.

It’s settling, too, because Taeyong’s hand grounds itself in Jaehyun’s hair and it seems as if Taeyong wants this as much as Jaehyun does. It seems as if all of Jaehyun’s worries were without any concrete reason, any concrete proof, as if he just watched a tad bit too many conspiracy videos and started thinking his boyfriend’s going to break up with him for no reason.

Clearly, Yuta was very fucking wrong when he said Taeyong was getting bored of him.

“Does that count as enough proof?" Taeyong asks once they pull away, resting his forehead on Jaehyun’s. He’s got his eyebrows raised as if he’s daring Jaehyun to say no and Jaehyun has half a mind to do just that, if only so he can kiss Taeyong some more, before the two of them hear the lock click.

“Is that—?” Jaehyun starts.

He doesn’t get the chance to finish, because Taeyong’s instincts are faster than Jaehyun’s words and he springs his arms forward as if he’d been shocked, squarely catching Jaehyun’s chest and shoving him off the bed.

“Hey—oh,” the person who’s unlocked the door says. Jaehyun doesn’t recognize him at all, but considering that he’s rather short and has a very older brother vibe to him, he assumes it’s Taeil. “Sorry, uh, I didn’t know you were having someone over?”

Jaehyun looks at Taeil, who’s giving him a sheepish smile, before glancing at Taeyong, whose whole face is flustered, ears red. Taeyong also won’t meet his eyes, deliberately looking anywhere but at Jaehyun.

This is a terrible sign.

“I’m not having someone over,” Taeyong says, swallowing and clearing his throat. He meets Jaehyun’s eyes, gets impossibly redder, and looks away. “Sorry, uh, I thought you were going to be gone the whole day.”

“I thought so, too,” Taeil says, sighing happily, “but class got cancelled, so I’ve got an hour or two before I’ve got to get going. Sorry for interrupting, though. I can leave if you want…? This time, I promise I won't come back. You could've just done the sock trick, you know.”

“No, no, it’s fine, uh,” Taeyong’s springing off his bed, apparently coming to his senses. He shuts the laptop, cutting off just as Edward was saying something, and swipes his phone off the desk. Jaehyun’s still too shocked to come to his, replaying how quickly Taeyong shoved him off the bed in his mind. “We were just about to get going.”

“You can stay here, it’s fine,” Taeil says, “I can just fuck around. I’m pretty sure Sicheng’s in his dorm room, anyway. I can just go bother him.”

“It’s really fine,” Taeyong says, “we were just here for a… a pitstop, you know. A short break.”

“Right,” Taeil says. “I’m serious, though. About the sock thing. Do that next time? And I won’t interrupt. That’s a promise.”

“That doesn’t—that doesn't apply here,” Taeyong says, smiling forcefully, “we’re not—you know. You’re embarrassing me, Taeil. Act normal every once in a while, maybe?”

Taeil smiles, confused, Taeyong’s words flying right past him. “Uh, okay,” he says, “I just thought—”

“—you thought wrong,” Taeyong says, “it’s fine, don't worry about it. Just don’t—I don’t know.”

“Right,” Taeil says, again, shaking his head, "sorry to you, too, uh…?”

“Jaehyun,” Jaehyun provides, at the questioning look Taeil’s giving him.

“Jaehyun,” Taeil repeats, knotting his eyebrows together as he turns to look at Taeyong. “Right, uh, sorry. About the interrupting and the—well, the other comments. You two really can stay here, if you want. I’ll just go bother Sicheng.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Taeyong says. He moves to go to the door, before turning around; he meets Jaehyun’s eyes and is only able to hold his confused gaze for a moment. He does extend a hand towards Jaehyun, though, helping him up to his feet. “We’ll just—we have to get going, anyway. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll try my best," Taeil says, sidestepping and letting them exit the room, with Taeyong pulling on Jaehyun’s sleeve to drag him out. Not his hand, not even his wrist. His sleeve. That seems like a stupid thing to focus on, yet Jaehyun can't stop thinking about it. Taeyong lets go of it immediately as they cross the threshold of the room, and that somehow makes the whole thing even worse. “Sorry for forcing you out the room.”

“You didn’t force us out of anything,” Taeyong says, “we were going to leave, anyway. Right, Jaehyun?”

Jaehyun has half a mind to say no, if only because he’s very confused and a bit annoyed.

“Yeah,” he says, anyway. “We were just about to get going.”

“Not so bad, then, I guess,” Taeil says, shrugging. “Well—I’ll see you later, Taeyong? And I’ll see you around, hopefully, Jaehyun.”

“See you,” Taeyong says, decisively, and Jaehyun echoes the same. Taeil gives them one last look, a mix between being amused and confused, before he shuts the door, and Taeyong starts walking in the direction of the stairway, not even checking to see if Jaehyun’s following him.

Jaehyun’s not following him, because he’s still trying to wrap his head around what happened. He only notices that Taeyong’s not standing besides him a few moments later and he jogs to catch up with him, hoping to get some explanation.

He doesn’t get anything, because Taeyong doesn’t say anything to him, looking embarrassed. Is he embarrassed of being caught with Jaehyun? Is he embarrassed of being caught watching _New Moon_? It’s one of the two and, judging by how his first thought was to shove Jaehyun off his bed instead of close his laptop, things are not exactly looking good.

“What was that?” Jaehyun asks, finally, once Taeyong’s going down the flight of stairs as if the dormitory is burning. “Taeil said he could’ve gone in and left to go see—uh, whoever he mentioned. We could’ve stayed.”

“That would’ve been rude,” Taeyong murmurs, just barely loud enough for Jaehyun to pick out his words. “It’s better like this,” he says, and his voice sounds decisive enough that Jaehyun doesn’t know what to say in response.

This is terrible.

“I’m gonna—I have work to finish, for tomorrow,” he says once they’ve left the building. He points his thumb behind him, awkwardly, as if that’s going to do anything to back up his point. “I’ll, uh, see you?”

“I—okay,” Taeyong says. He doesn’t bring up that Jaehyun’s told him that he had no work due tomorrow, doesn’t ask about it. Doesn’t even look at Jaehyun, his hands stuffed inside his pockets as he stares down at his feet, kicking at the pavement. “See you, Jae.”

And—and Jaehyun doesn't want to leave, because leaving without talking about this feels like giving up. It feels like giving up and it feels like Taeyong’s slipping through his fingers like sand, but with his mind playing a highlight reel of the last ten minutes, he’s definitely not going to get anything productive out, even if they did talk. He needs to think about this calmly, so it doesn’t escalate.

Jaehyun turns, starting to walk away. He’s hoping, desperately, that Taeyong calls for him, that Taeyong stops him, that Taeyong runs after him. That Taeyong does anything to help, that Taeyong does anything to redeem himself from what just happened.

He doesn’t.

Jaehyun looks over his shoulder to find Taeyong watching him, looking much too conflicted. He sends him a tight smile and, god, Yuta was right.

This can’t be leading anywhere good.

xi.

Taeyong’s moments away from losing his mind.

It’s been a week since Jaehyun came home and said _that_ , since his shirt caught on fire just as Taeyong was about to come clean. It’s also been a week since they’ve properly hung out with each other; it’s stupid to say, but it feels like Jaehyun’s avoiding him.

Did he figure out that Taeyong’s been in love with him for the past years? Did that make him uncomfortable?

Or is he simply busy with work? Taeyong recalls him mentioning that they’ve hired a new employee that Jaehyun’s going to have to train, but even when Jaehyun had long days at work, he’d still find time to hang out with Taeyong. To not even hang out with him, but sit with him, even, or just text him stupid shit during the day about what Mark did this time, or about whatever weird shit some customer did.

For the past few days, though, he hasn’t.

It feels stupid to worry about this, of all things he could be worrying about, such as his job and the fact that he’d double-booked three different models and has yet to resolve the issue. It feels stupid to be focusing on this but he can’t seem to focus on anything else.

He’d love to talk about this with Doyoung, but that seems like a terrible idea. They’re not supposed to talk about this with anyone, really, in some sort of unwritten rule, and Taeyong doesn’t want to make Doyoung feel like he has to choose a side.

Taeyong sighs, sitting up from where he was resting his head on his hand, slumped against his desk, and tries to get back to work. He’s supposed to make sure there’s enough models—“ _good_ models,” his boss had stressed—for two shoots that take place at the same time and managed to fuck that up as well.

He shouldn’t be too surprised, at this point.

“Bro, you all right?”

Taeyong looks up to see Donghyuck standing at his desk, looking more amused than concerned. He used to be the intern for the finance department before switching to the fashion department,quickly becoming known for getting much too comfortable with everyone much too quickly. Taeyong doesn’t mind, though, finding his company nicer than the other workers in the department, who’ve yet to get used to him.

“Don’t call me bro,” he says, mostly teasing. “I’m fine. Do I not look fine?”

Donghyuck gives him a once over, before leaning back on his heels. “Feel like you don’t want me to answer that.”

“I cannot stand you,” he says, “don’t you have coffee to fetch? A salad to go buy or some shit?”

“Coffee, yeah,” Donghyuck says. He looks around him, making sure no one else is there, before he leans over Taeyong’s desk, “I hate these bitches. All they do is have coffee orders that take me five minutes to read to the barista and half the time I get something wrong.”

“I’m not one of these bitches, I hope?”

“I wouldn’t be talking with you about this if you were,” Donghyuck says, straightening. “Or, well. I might. I did pull this trick with Nayeon and her coffee order did get a bit shorter, so.”

“You barely ever get me coffee,” Taeyong says.

“Yeah, and when I do, you make me go to that shitty café so I can pass forward your flirty messages to the barista.”

“They’re not flirty messages,” Taeyong protests, albeit weakly. Are they flirty? He can’t recall. He usually includes something that’s supposed to make Jaehyun laugh when Donghyuck slides it across the counter but maybe Jaehyun doesn’t find it the least bit amusing.

“What else could they be?” Donghyuck peers over Taeyong’s desk, picking up his pen holder, swirling it around before he plucks out a bright red pen and tests it out of the back of his hand. “He always looks like he’s lost his mind when he opens it and reads it. Have half the mind to report you to HR for making me do this.”

“If you do that, I’m going to start having mile long coffee orders.”

“If you do _that_ , I’m going to stop buying you coffee.”

Donghyuck grins when Taeyong rolls his eyes and sits back in his chair, but Taeyong pays little mind to that, a question pressing at the forefront of his mind. “Does he actually look like he’s lost his mind when he reads the little notes? And is that in a good way or…?”

“So they _are_ flirty.”

“They’re not,” Taeyong says, waving a hand dismissively. “Go get the coffees before I lose my mind. In the bad way.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, doing the exact opposite as he sits down on the swirly chair by Taeyong’s desk, left there by Joohyun, who’d come up to say hi earlier. He rests his crossed arms on Taeyong’s desk, crushing a number of files that Taeyong hopes aren’t too important.

“He does actually look like he’s lost his mind when he reads the notes, yeah,” Donghyuck says. “In the good way.”

Taeyong decides to push his luck. “And what exactly does that mean?”

“Do you want me to record him reading your message next time? Is that what we’re getting at?”

“No, no, no,” Taeyong waves his hands in front of him quickly and Donghyuck laughs loudly. “Not at all. Forget I asked.”

“No,” Donghyuck says, “this is way better than doing my work. I want the gossip arc of every office tv show and shit, and you’re my only way to get it.”

“Can’t you get it from the other interns?” Taeyong asks. “I’m sure they have some intergroup drama going on.”

“They do, but it’s nothing interesting,” Donghyuck says. He tries to kick Taeyong under the table but his foot must catch on the leg of the table, because it shifts ever so slightly and he winces. “It’s the same old shit about having work, etcetera. Sometimes it’s about higher-up drama which is admittedly ten times more interesting than this, but that’s rare.”

“And they pay you for this?”

“I don’t get paid at all,” Donghyuck grumbles and well, Taeyong can’t disagree that that’s rather fucked. “It’s fine, though. I’m about to get paid in hearing about your shitty love life. Hell yeah.”

“My love life’s not shitty,” Taeyong argues. “It’s just… a work in progress.”

“How old are you again?”

Taeyong rolls his eyes, throwing the blue pen he’d been using at Donghyuck, just managing to hit him. It does land on the ground as soon as Donghyuck pushes it off his arm and Taeyong’s going to be the one who has to get up and fetch the pen, but it’s definitely worth the short reward he feels.

“I’m not telling you shit.”

“Come onnn,” Donghyuck says, “you literally don’t have anything to do.”

“I literally have so much shit to do,” Taeyong says, flicking Donghyuck’s forehead, “so much shit that I have to be working on. That I do get paid for.”

“Ouch, man,” Donghyuck says, “that was a low blow.”

“It was well deserved,” Taeyong says, “now shoo.”

“No, come on,” Donghyuck says, “it’ll be fine. I’ll be entertained and you can get help with whatever issue you have, granted it’s interesting and you’re able to tell it in a compelling way.”

Taeyong levels him with a stare. “One, I don’t have any issue,” he says, “two, you’re a high schooler, so even if I did have some problem, I wouldn’t try to confide in you.”

“I’m a senior,” Donghyuck protests. “There’s a difference.”

“A senior still in high school,” Taeyong says.

“A senior nonetheless,” Donghyuck protests, “practically a college student by now, you know.”

“Yeah, and I graduated college years ago,” Taeyong says, “if someone asked me for advice while I was a senior in high school or even a college freshman, it’d be shitty. You’re not exactly doing a great job of building your case.”

“You don’t have to ask me for advice,” Donghyuck says, “I can just be a hearing board. Or something. Please? It’s better than doing nothing.”

“I’m supposed to be working,” Taeyong says, though admittedly, his resolve is starting to break, “and you’re going to get in trouble if you’re caught sitting here and not doing shit.”

“I could help you make calls,” Donghyuck says, “or something. I’m fine with whatever, really. I am an intern for the whole department, after all.”

“And I’m just an assistant,” Taeyong says. “I don’t think interns work for assistants.”

“I do,” Donghyuck decides, sitting up. “Come on, I’ll help you and in the meantime, you’ll entertain me. What are you supposed to be working on?”

Taeyong rolls his eyes though he sighs. “I double booked three models for a photoshoot,” he says, “I need to either reschedule the photoshoot or find three new models who are free on a short term notice.”

“Who are the models? The ones you have booked and the double-booked ones?”

Taeyong rattles off the names and Donghyuck nods, slipping out his phone. Taeyong watches as he scrolls through something, counting under his breath.

“I have a few models I can contact,” Donghyuck says, “or that I can give you to contact.”

“You’re an intern,” Taeyong says, “how do you have model’s numbers and shit?”

“Being an intern is all about the contacts or something,” Donghyuck says, “good to have those in the industry.” He stands up, holding a hand out for Taeyong, “come on. I have to go get coffee and a break will do you good.”

“I don’t have time for a break,” Taeyong says.

“I’m not giving you the numbers unless you go on the break with me,” Donghyuck says, “come on, I’ll get you coffee, on the company. Maybe something to eat, too. Personally, I’d just about die for fries.”

Taeyong stares at him, contemplating how bad of an idea this is.

“Come on,” Donghyuck says, “I’ll give you the numbers if you go. Pspspspspsps, hyung. I know you want them.”

Taeyong sighs.

“Fine,” he says, “just this once.”

Donghyuck’s surprisingly calm about the whole thing as Taeyong clocks out for break, giving him a few moments of break as they trail to the elevator and stand in silence for the ride down, mostly because they’re accompanied by higher-ups. Donghyuck’s still skirting around it when they get out of the building but after a few minutes of pointless small talk, he jumps back on his bullshit.

“So are you going to tell me, now?” he asks, practically skipping as they walk down the street, his coat wide open and scarf uselessly perched on top of his shoulders. “We have time.”

“Zip up your coat,” Taeyong tells him, gesturing with his chin at Donghyuck, “or at least fix your scarf. You’re going to get a cold.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes though he does adjust his scarf before knocking into Taeyong’s side, his eyes expectant as he looks at him. “Come on, Taeyong.”

“I’m going to set a few ground rules first,” Taeyong says, ignoring the way Donghyuck triumphantly pumps his hand. “One, you’re not allowed to talk with anyone about this, yeah? Two, don’t make fun of me. Three, this is the only time we’re doing this, it’s not going to become like, a thing, got it?”

“Got it, yeah,” Donghyuck says. At Taeyong’s silence, he adds, “don’t tell anyone, don’t laugh, don’t expect this to become a weekly entertainment special. It’s not that hard to remember, hyung.”

“Okay,” Taeyong sighs. “I know I’m going to regret telling you this, but—whatever. When I was in college, I dated this, uh,” he swallows, “I dated this guy.”

“Crossing you off the incel virgin list as we speak.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes, biting back a smile. “I was with him for two months,” Taeyong says. “Almost two months. We broke up just as the two months anniversary was coming up, because we decided that we’re better off as friends. Fast forward to now and we live together.”

“God,” Donghyuck says, closing his eyes and clasping his hands together, “literally watching a romcom. Obsessed with your life, hyung. Sorry I ever made fun of you.”

“I didn’t even say anything about it, yet,” Taeyong says.

“You did,” Donghyuck sighs, counting on his fingers, “you dated him, broke up, stayed friends, and now live together. And this is what was on your mind, bothering you for the whole morning. Please. There’s no chance you’re not both in love.”

“Let me get to it or you’re not hearing the full story.”

Donghyuck sighs. “Hags be getting mad irritated lately,” he says, “but fine.”

“So, as I was saying, we live together now,” Taeyong says, “with a mutual friend, but that’s besides the point. A few days ago, when my friend came home—the one I used to date—he—”

“—hyung, just use his name,” Donghyuck says.

“I’m not using his name.”

“I know who it is, anyway,” Donghyuck says, “you’re wasting your time.”

“You don’t know who it is, don’t be stupid.”

“Isn’t it the barista?” Taeyong gapes at him. “So it is the barista. Love is love, I see no difference, hyung.”

“You’re so—you’re not allowed to recount any of this to him,” Taeyong says, “if you do, I’ll fucking—I don’t know. Do something.”

“Very terrified,” Donghyuck says, ducking out of the way when Taeyong goes to shove him. “I won’t tell him. The longest interaction we’ve had was me passing him one of your notes and getting one back from him. And I already told you I’m not going to tell anyone about this.”

“Right, right,” Taeyong says, “so—okay. So when he came home—uh, Jaehyun,” his voice strains, “when he came home a few days ago from the date, um, he thought I was sleeping on the couch and… practically confessed to me?”

“And this is a problem how exactly?”

“I was asleep,” Taeyong says, “and he didn’t mean to confess. I don’t know, maybe he was just teasing me. That’s not the whole thing, though.”

“What’s the whole thing?”

“This is going to sound stupid, but we had this—this moment? In the kitchen,” Taeyong says, “right after the—after he practically confessed. Um, I was going to tell him, uh, well—basically the same thing, but we got interrupted.”

“By the other roomie?”

“No, by his sleeve catching on fire, but that’s unimportant,” Taeyong waves his hand, “it’s just—after that, he’s not really… talking to me? Or like, he is, when we pass each other in the morning or in the afternoon, but way less than usually.”

“And this is where you want me to give you advice?” Donghyuck asks, scrunching up his nose. “This is your problem?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong says, biting on his lip, “I mean—what am I supposed to do? He’s avoiding me, I’m almost certain. This is a nightmare.”

“This isn’t a nightmare, god,” Donghyuck says, “this is so easy to resolve. Have you heard of—and hear me out—communicating maybe? Talk to him, you useless incel.”

“How am I supposed to talk to him,” Taeyong says, “he’s avoiding me. I can’t exactly… I don’t know, go up to him and confess, not when that’s the reason he’s avoiding me in the first place.”

“You literally just said he confessed to you when you were sleeping on the couch.”

“I might have dreamt that up!” Taeyong protests, “I can’t just—I don’t know. What if—what if I just thought I heard him say that. And he didn’t actually say anything, and now he’s weirded out because he figured I’m into him.”

“That’s the stupidest shit I’ve heard,” Donghyuck says, “he’s not straight, is he? He’s not going to be weirded out by the fact that you’re into him. At worst, he’ll take it as a compliment or whatever.”

“Okay,” Taeyong says, “okay, you might have a point, but then—why isn’t he still talking to me?”

“I don’t know,” Donghyuck says, shrugging, “maybe he thought you were going to reject him or something. I don’t know, men are stupid. It doesn’t matter. You should just talk to him and figure it out.”

“He’s just going to blow me off if I ask him to talk when he comes home,” Taeyong says, “not to mention he’s going to be exhausted after working probably—I think he has a double shift today.”

“Then talk to him while he’s at work,” Donghyuck says.

“That’s the stupidest idea I’ve heard,” Taeyong says. “I’m not going to—I’d have to go there in the first place and that takes time, and my break is probably already going to run longer than it should, and—”

“—you don’t have to worry about that,” Donghyuck says. He’s got the most self-satisfied grin on his face. “You’re here, already.”

For the first time since they’ve left the company, Taeyong makes mention of his surroundings, turning to look around them. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to land on the café Jaehyun works at and even less for him to find Jaehyun’s figure inside.

“You’re insane,” he tells Donghyuck.

“I’m not,” Donghyuck says, rolling his eyes. “Come on, go to him. Maybe he’ll even give you a discount on the coffee.”

“I’m not going to talk to him now,” Taeyong says.

“I’m not giving you the numbers unless you talk to him,” Donghyuck says, waving his phone in front of Taeyong.

“This is blackmail.”

“This is me being helpful,” Donghyuck corrects him. “Come on, hyung. You’ve been down about this practically the whole week and I hate it here. Just talk to him. Whatever happens, happens, but at least you’ll work it out.”

“I can’t talk to him now,” Taeyong insists, “this is—this is going to be like, I don’t know, practically harassment.”

“Then do what you always do,” Donghyuck tells him, reaching into his jacket pocket, from which he produces a notepad and a red pen, both of which Taeyong recognizes from his office equipment. “Leave him a note.”

“You stole these from my desk?” Taeyong asks, incredulous. “You didn’t even know what the problem would be.”

“I’m not stupid,” Donghyuck says, “I figured it out. When I asked you if you wanted coffee, a few days ago, you said yeah, but didn’t tell me to come here, which you always do. My best guess was that it had something to do with him, which it did. So you’re welcome. Expecting a payment of one thousand dollars for my work.”

“Fuck off, I’m not giving you shit,” he says, even as he accepts the notepad, balancing it on his palm as he readies to write. “What should I write?”

“I hate to break it to you, but that’s for you to figure out,” Donghyuck says, kicking at the pavement. “I’m just the delivery man. The messenger. You do have to kinda hurry up, since I’m also dragging my break out like crazy for this. Not break. My coffee delivery time.”

“I’ll put in a good word for you to my boss,” Taeyong says, just as it clicks in his head and he figures out what to write, pen carefully sliding across the paper. He stares at the message for a moment before adding a short little _let’s talk today?_ to the end, folding it once, twice, and finally handing it to Donghyuck. “Do not read it.”

“I never read your shit, damn,” Donghyuck says, accepting the note. “You still want the coffee?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong sighs, “get me my usual.” Then, pushing down his pride, he adds, “this was very inappropriate for you to do. I should report you to HR.”

“But you won’t,” Donghyuck grins.

“But I won’t,” Taeyong says, sighing. “Thanks, Donghyuck. I’ll owe you one for this.”

“No prob,” Donghyuck says, clicking his tongue and snapping his fingers at Taeyong, starting to walk backwards in the direction of the café, “I’ll send you all the contacts later!”

As promised, Donghyuck does send him a list of contacts. It arrives when Taeyong is settling back at his desk again, his mind even more scattered than before. He reads the messages, already starting to put in the first number in his work phone to call it, when a second message from Donghyuck comes through.

 _ps. jaehyun lost his shit even more this time_ , it reads, _was almost embarrassing to watch._

Taeyong rolls his eyes, setting his phone back down. It’s only a few moments later that the next message arrives—it’s from Jaehyun, this time, and Taeyong can’t stop himself from unlocking his phone and reading it.

 _I close today,_ Jaehyun wrote. _can you come by then?_

 _I’ll be there,_ Taeyong writes back almost immediately. Jaehyun doesn’t reply after that and Taeyong sets his phone down, tapping his fingers on the desk. This is it, decidedly—whatever happens now, happens, as Donghyuck said.

They’ll make it through this.

So Taeyong hopes, at least.

vi.

Jaehyun knows it’s coming. He knows, has the alarms blasting non-stop in the back of his head, but he’s still surprised when it comes, Taeyong managing to knock him off his balance. Not the first time and probably not the last.

Maybe the last.

“Fuck bitches, get money,” Sehun’s saying in lieu of a goodbye, giving Jaehyun’s an off-hand wave without actually turning to see him off. Not a surprise, considering it’s Sehun. “Get me a pack of crisps on your way back, yeah?”

“I’m not getting you shit.”

“I got you the fucking red mountain dew last week,” Sehun argues, twisting in his chair to scowl at Jaehyun, who’s busy pulling on his shoes. “And twizzlers.”

“The twizzlers were for Yuta,” Jaehyun points out, “and I didn’t even want the red mountain dew. I wanted ginger ale.”

“Not my fault they didn’t sell it,” Sehun whines. “Come on, Jaehyun. Get me salt and vinegar crisps to prove love wins.”

Jaehyun sighs as he grabs his hoodie off the back of his desk chair, pulling it on before going to the door. “I’ll see what I can do,” he says, pulling on the handle.

“Love is love,” Sehun says, just as Jaehyun’s stepping out. “Thanks, babe!”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes though he can’t help the smile pulling at his lips anyway. As annoying as Sehun is, he does give a comforting sense of familiarity, and he’s only a bad friend a third of the time. Maybe half of the time. He gives a comforting sense of stability, too, which helps, especially considering the fact that his and Taeyong’s relationship has been anything but, lately.

Taeyong’s barely messaged him, these past few days. To be fair, it’s not like Jaehyun’s been texting him much, either. That’s been mostly so he doesn’t seem desperate—something about the three day rule—though also because he’s just… not sure what to say.

Taeyong apologized for the whole thing, saying he just got scared that Taeil would find them in a compromising position, and Jaehyun gets it. He does, really. If Sehun came back to the dorm room while Taeyong was there, there’s no doubt that he’d mercilessly make fun of both of them and even more of Jaehyun once Taeyong’d leave.

But it’s not just that.

It’s the way Taeyong looked, when he was dragging Jaehyun out. The way he wouldn’t meet his eyes. It seemed to go much deeper beyond him just being scared of Taeil making fun of them, but it’s not like he’s talking about that, either. And Jaehyun doesn’t really know what to do, because it’s not like he wants to break-up with Taeyong. It’s not like he wants to break-up with Taeyong, definitely not, but they’re going nowhere with this, circling around every topic.

Jaehyun sighs, carding his fingers through his hair as he goes to the staircase. Maybe they’re not leading to a break-up, he hopes. Maybe Taeyong’s just taking a minute to… mull over everything. To figure things out, like he said he wanted to.

 _Yeah, that’s probably it,_ he thinks, mostly to try and convince himself as he pushes open the door to the staircase, having to swerve out of the way of whoever’s coming up.

“Jaehyun,” he hears before he feels someone’s hand still on his arm, only there for a second before slipping off. He doesn’t have to think hard about who’s there before turning around, yet the sight of Taeyong still surprises him.

“Hey,” Jaehyun says, his brows knotting together. “Do you—are you visiting someone?”

Taeyong smiles, gaze shifty as he twists his hands together in front of his chest. It’s awkward, unbearably so, and Jaehyun wishes the past few weeks just didn’t happen.

“You, actually,” he says, “sorry, I was going to text or something, but…”

“It’s fine,” Jaehyun says, “at least you caught me before I left. You would’ve had to deal with Sehun otherwise.”

“Oh, is he—is he in your room?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says, “it’s his, too, after all.”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Taeyong shakes his head, “I can come by another time, then.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Jaehyun says, biting back a sigh as he comes back into the hallway from the staircase, letting the doors slam shut behind him. “Sehun’s supposed to get going soon, anyway,” he lies, “so it’s fine if I kick him out a bit earlier.”

Taeyong nods, not answering, and Jaehyun’s moments away from losing his mind. He tries his best not to, going back to unlock his room. He enters, leaving the door pushed open, but Taeyong lingers by the threshold.

“Back so soon?” Sehun asks without looking up from his work. “What’d you forget this time?”

“You mind?” Jaehyun asks, speaking quieter in hopes that Sehun gets the hint. He seems to, if only judging by the fact that he turns around in his chair, eyes first catching on Jaehyun before they find Taeyong, and his face twists into one of understanding.

“Right,” he says, giving an exaggerated sigh as he gets up. He sweeps his phone and juul off his desk before clapping Jaehyun on the shoulder. “Hope you two make up.”

Jaehyun forces a smile at him; at least he said it quietly enough that Taeyong likely didn’t hear.

“‘Sup, Taeyong,” Sehun says when he passes him, Taeyong standing aside to let him through.

“Hey,” Taeyong says, “sorry for this.”

“It’s fine,” Sehun says, though he sends Jaehyun a look—Jaehyun owes him at least three packs of crisps, now. He holds up his phone, waving it in the air slightly, “text me when you’re done,” and disappears out of Jaehyun’s sight.

And so they’re alone.

Taeyong shuts the door slowly, hesitant to let go off the door handle. Jaehyun watches him, standing in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do. He feels dread sink in his stomach and has no way of telling himself it’s not going to work out the way he thinks it is.

“I think we should talk,” Taeyong says, finally, after a few moments. He’s not meeting Jaehyun’s eyes, still fidgeting with his hands, and Jaehyun wants to do nothing more than reach out and hold him, than reach out and help him calm down. “Um, okay, sorry. I practiced what to say on my way here but it’s, uh, it’s a bit fucked up now.”

“It’s okay,” Jaehyun says, “take your time.”

“Uh,” Taeyong stammers, before he pauses for a few moments. He’s mouthing something under his breath and Jaehyun tries not to focus on how the reality of the situation is sinking slowly into his skin. He hates it here. “Okay, um. I, uh,” his voice becomes strained, choked up, and Jaehyun really hopes he doesn’t start crying, “I really like you, but, uh, I think we should break-up.”

And there it is.

Jaehyun doesn’t know whether he prefers it like this, with him fully aware that it was coming, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. It would’ve been useful, maybe, if he thought beforehand what he could respond to Taeyong but he finds himself just staring at him, unable to say anything.

“It’s—uh, it’s not your fault or anything,” Taeyong says, “and I’m sorry for just coming out here with this out of the blue, but, uh, yeah. It’s not—it’s not on you. It’s, uh, I just.” He swallows, “I just think we’d be better off as friends?”

There’s Jaehyun’s chance.

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says, barely able to push the words past his throat. Taeyong looks at him, brows twisting in surprise, “I—yeah. I think so as well.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” he says, because no matter how much it might hurt staying just friends with Taeyong till the end of time, Jaehyun doesn’t want to lose Taeyong completely. He’s only closely known Taeyong for a bit, but he already can’t imagine life without him. “I do.”

“Oh,” Taeyong says, as if he’d expected this to be harder. “Well, um. I think that’s it.”

“Kind of, yeah,” Jaehyun says, swallowing past the lump in his throat. They have to move on from this or he’s going to start crying. “Do you want to go get coffee?”

Taeyong looks up at him.

“Right now?”

“We’re friends,” Jaehyun says, and even that hurts to say. “We can go get coffee. Fuck whatever break-up etiquette exists.”

And Taeyong smiles at him, then, small, and Jaehyun tries not to think about how much he wants to hold his hand right now. He tries not to think it all the way out of the dormitory, changing topics to try and ignore everything pressing on his mind. They pass Sehun, who’s vaping on the side of the building.

He sends Jaehyun a covert thumbs-up and on god, does Jaehyun wish he had any reason to.

xii.

As he leaves work, Taeyong texts Doyoung that he’ll be home late. In response, Doyoung sends him back a collection of horny emojis, as he usually does, and it stuns Taeyong that this is the first time in a while that they actually kind of apply.

Even then it’s not entirely true.

Taeyong sighs, reciting what he wants Jaehyun to know on his way to the café. It’s not that far away so he deliberately walks slower, if only so he has enough time to think over what he wants to say in order to not lose Jaehyun. He might have some time at the café; it’s still a good half an hour till closing, but the café’s small enough that usually no customers are there at the time.

When he arrives, he lingers in front of the entrance until his fingers get too cold and stiff for him to handle and he’s forced to enter, greeted immediately by a gust of warm wind.

“Hey,” Jaehyun says, shutting his phone and pushing it away as he stops leaning on the counter and straightens in his place. “You didn’t have to wait fifteen minutes outside before entering, you know. I don’t bite.”

Taeyong’s skin burns. “Very funny,” he says, “did you get my message?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says. He stuffs one of his hands into his pocket, gesturing with another one at a nearby table. “Do you want something to drink?”

“I think we should just talk about it, maybe,” Taeyong says, shrugging off his coat, stuffing his scarf into the sleeve and hanging both on the coatrack before taking a seat, hands folded on the table as he tries (and fails) to control his nerves.

Jaehyun sits down across from him, a small piece of paper in his hands.

 _Oh, no_ , Taeyong thinks. Donghyuck was so fucking wrong about this.

“Once you’re free,” he corrects himself, “I meant we should talk about it once you’re free.”

Jaehyun laughs, though it sounds strained. “I’m free now,” he says, “there's no customers. The café is temporarily out of business.”

“Oh,” Taeyong says. “Well, uh, in that case… uh… sorry. I don’t know where to start.”

“It’s okay,” Jaehyun says, though he won't meet Taeyong's eyes. “Let me. Uh, okay. I’m sorry that—I’m sorry about what happened last week. I thought you were asleep and I know that doesn’t—I know that doesn’t justify it or anything but uh, yeah. Sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”

Taeyong furrows his brows, though he doesn’t speak, letting Jaehyun mull over what he's going to say next. He watches him toy with the little note, flipping it open, to see where Taeyong’s written _no wonder I can’t fucking get over you_.

“I wanted to apologize in general for, uh, that whole thing,” Jaehyun says, folding the note closed and setting it aside as he looks down, taking a deep breath. “I know that—must’ve put you in an awkward situation. And I’m really sorry about that. But, uh, okay. God, this sounds so pathetic, but, uh, please don’t. Tease me for it?”

“Tease you for it…?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun takes a deep breath. “I know, I know, it’s a loser move but this is already embarrassing as is. So just… I don't know.” He runs his fingers through his hair, obviously disgruntled, and Taeyong’s heart sinks in his stomach. This is such a big misunderstanding. “It’s already bad enough that I’ve been trying to get over you for the past years and nothing is working and I just—”

“—that’s not your line,” Taeyong says and Jaehyun frowns, turning to face him. He looks so sad that Taeyong wants to cry, but he pushes his tears back and reaches for Jaehyun's hand before thinking otherwise. “I—okay. On my way here I was thinking of what to tell you?”

“It's fine, you don't have to explain yourself," Jaehyun says. "I get it. It’s funny. That's fine. I just—I just need a break from this. God, okay, that sounds like we’re—you know, but you get what I mean. I just… I don't know.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” Taeyong says, breezing right past the rest of what Jaehyun said. He doesn’t even want to think about it. “I was just—god, okay.”

“It really is fine,” Jaehyun repeats, “I get it. It’s funny.”

“It’s not,” Taeyong says, shaking his head, “it's not, really.”

“Okay, yeah, it isn’t now,” Jaehyun says, "but it’s—I don’t know. You get my point. I just—I don’t know. If you could pretend this whole thing never happened and just. Ignored me for a bit. If we both ignored each other, I think. For a few weeks. I think that'd work great.”

“Jaehyun, this isn’t—“

“—it's just what I need,” Jaehyun says, “I know how pathetic this is, how stupid it is that I still haven’t gotten over you, but it’s—I don’t know, it feels even worse to have you tease me for it—”

“— _I_ still haven’t gotten over you,” Taeyong says.

Jaehyun blinks at him, once, twice, his mouth dropping open, his brows pulling together. His hands still on the table and Taeyong wants to laugh, really, because of how stupid the two of them are.

“Okay, yeah, that’s exactly what I don’t want to—”

“—I’m not joking,” Taeyong says, this time more forcefully. “I’m not joking, okay? Honest to god, I still haven't gotten over you. I’ve been in love with you ever since we went out and it’s so fucking hard to get over you—harder than it should be, probably, considering it’s been almost five fucking years and I’m stuck in the same square as before.”

“What—what do you mean? What are you talking about?”

“I’m in love with you,” Taeyong says, “that’s what I’m talking about.”

“You’re—you can’t be in love with me,” Jaehyun says. “You’re the one who broke up with me in the first place.”

“I broke up with you because I was so in love with you I couldn’t handle it!” Taeyong says. “I felt so much for you that my heart threatened to collapse if you so much as sent me a text. You were the only thing I was thinking about all the time. I lost sleep because I stayed up, thinking of you, and it terrified me.”

Jaehyun stays silent, taking a deep breath.

“Why’d it terrify you?” he asks, finally.

“You were my first real relationship,” Taeyong says, tapping his fingers on the table. “I’ve—I’ve gone out on dates before, freshman year of college, but it’s not like any of them lasted. It’s not like anything came out of them. You were my first real relationship and it’s—I don’t know. My friends were in relationships before and neither of them recounted it how I felt.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell them?”

“Partly, yeah,” Taeyong says, “I—I should’ve told them, definitely, and gotten some advice or something on how to control everything I felt, on how to keep it at ease. But I didn’t because it was so—it was so embarrassing, how much I felt for you, after such a short period of time.”

Jaehyun leans back in his chair, turning back to staring out the window. Taeyong just watches him, silent. He doesn’t know how much time passes before Jaehyun speaks again:

“I told all my friends about you,” he says, voice quiet. “I mean—they were assholes about it. I told all of them about you and… I don’t know. I thought you’d done the same until I found out—from Doyoung, of all people—that you thought we both hid it. That you thought of it as insignificant, I don’t know, something that wasn’t going to last anyway.”

“I didn’t think that,” Taeyong says, “I told Doyoung that, yeah, but it’s—god, I don’t know. It was so scary, feeling like that. I’d have done anything for you, when we first got together. I’d still do anything for you, honestly, but at the time it was so… I don’t know. I’ve never felt like that before.”

“I’ve never felt like that before, either, Taeyong,” Jaehyun’s words are gentle but his tone is less so. Taeyong thinks he deserves it at least a bit. “It’s not—it wasn't easy for me, either.”

“Yeah, but you seemed to get over it really fast,” Taeyong says, “I was going to—I don’t know, confess to you again, a few weeks after we broke up, and I found out you were going on a date with someone.”

“Yeah, because I wanted to get over you,” Jaehyun says, “it hurt so fucking much after we broke up and I couldn’t do practically anything with you anymore. I couldn’t kiss you—I could barely hold your hand, too, and any physical contact was off the table for months. And to have you reject me and tell me you basically have no feelings for me—do you not think I wasn’t hurt by that?”

“I was hurt, too,” Taeyong says, “I fucking hated how awkward it was after the break-up. I kept catching myself trying to kiss you, wanting to hang-out with you all the fucking time before I realized I don’t have the right to it anymore.”

“You were the one who deprived yourself of that right,” Jaehyun says, “I was fine to keep it going as we had in the beginning.”

“It’s not my fault I was scared, Jae,” Taeyong says, “I was scared that if we kept being together, I’d inevitably fuck it up after a month or two or three or four. I was scared that you’d leave me because I’m not good at relationships, at showing my affection, at anything.”

“So before I had the chance to do that, you left me.”

It sounds terrible. It’s also not wrong.

“Yeah,” Taeyong admits, “I know how it sounds.”

“If that’s true—”

“—it is true,” Taeyong insists. “It is true. It’s the whole fucking truth. I wouldn’t lie to you about this. Not this time.”

“Why didn’t you tell Doyoung it was serious, then?” Jaehyun asks. “Why didn’t you tell him that—that you were in love with me?”

“I didn’t want him to meddle with it,” Taeyong says, “god, I know it sounds stupid, but I was trying to get over you. I thought you were completely over me and I didn’t want Doyoung to try and interfere and bring back something that I thought you considered the past at the time.”

Jaehyun hums, quiet.

“I shouldn’t have kept our relationship a secret from my friends,” Taeyong continues, “and—I’m not trying to justify it, just explain it, but—god. When I was in high school, I’d be so desperate to have someone. To love, to be loved by, someone who’d feel the same for me as I felt for them.”

“I think everyone has that in high school,” Jaehyun says, “that sort of vision of a teen romance. I don't know.”

“I used to dream about someone,” Taeyong says, “I used to dream about it, about dating someone, about having someone to hold, to love.”

Taeyong looks up to find that Jaehyun’s watching him. Their eyes meet and Taeyong smiles, a bit sad.

“You were my teenage dream,” he confesses. “You were everything I wanted. And it terrified me so fucking much. It—god, it still terrifies me. I’m still so fucking scared of it. I’m still so scared of it but I’m trying to move past it now, because—god, you’re more important to me than anything else. You’re the most important person in my life. You've been the most important person in my life for a while, now.”

“What are you saying,” Jaehyun says, slowly, as if he can't believe his ears.

“I’m saying—I’m saying I’m in love with you,” Taeyong says, again, “I’m in love with you and I’ve been in love with you, for the past years. And—if you’d be willing to, I’d like to try this again. To go on a date—or we can call it a semi-date or something, but. I’d like for it to happen.”

“Ask me, then.”

“Ask you…?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, though a small smile's pulling at his lips anyway. “Ask me out,” he says. “Like I asked you out. Properly.”

"I don’t have a plant with me to give you,” Taeyong leans forward in his seat, reaching across the table to grasp Jaehyun’s hand. He gives it a tight squeeze, ”we can—if any are open, we can stop by a flower shop.”

“That’s not the point,” Jaehyun says.

“Oh,” Taeyong says. “Uh, okay. Will you go out with me? On a, uh, half-date, let’s call it.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says and he lets the smile stretch his lips then, unable to keep it from flooding his face as he looks at Taeyong, eyes shining under the lights of the café. “So, are you going to kiss me now or what?”

vii.

The first week after the break-up is the worst.

Jaehyun takes it so badly that even Yuta takes pity on him, letting up from the snide comments and sneers he’d gotten used to throwing his way. Sehun pats him on the back and brings him the particular brand of disgustingly bland crisps that Jaehyun likes, without the receipt stapled to the top.

He still meets up with Taeyong—less frequently than when they’d been at the height of their relationship, though still more frequently than they had at the lowest point of their relationship, so it’s not that bad. It hurts, a bit, a lot, sometimes, because Jaehyun has to remember he can’t hold Taeyong’s hand under the table anymore, that he can’t kiss him in the privacy of their dorms, that he shouldn’t be thinking about him the way he’s thinking about him right now.

It feels like he's betraying some promise he’s made to Taeyong, which doesn't even make sense, considering he'd made no such promise. He’d just agreed to stay friends—had lied that it was better for them, too, but now it’s making him feel guilty.

Maybe he should’ve tried to talk to Taeyong more about whatever he was figuring out. Maybe he should’ve, but what good would that have done, considering Taeyong doesn’t even see him as anything more than a friend? And it’s fine, really, because at least he agreed to remain friends, but that doesn’t mean that Jaehyun doesn’t feel shit about it a good eighty percent of the time.

“Okay, this ends now,” Sehun says, kicking the foot of Jaehyun’s bed. Jaehyun’s currently sprawled out on top of it, doing nothing but staring upwards and trying to trace Taeyong’s features on the cracking ceiling. “Come on, man. It’s been, uh. How long has it been?”

“Two weeks,” Yuta says.

“Two weeks and three days,” Jaehyun says, sighing as he pushes himself up on his elbows. “What do you guys want?”

“We’re going to get you out of your dump,” Sehun tells him. He kicks the foot of Jaehyun’s bed again, making it wobble dangerously. “We're going to go clubbing. I think. Is that what we decided on?”

“Something like that, yeah,” Yuta says.

“We’re going to go clubbing and find you a hot rebound,” Sehun says, “come on. You could use a night out.”

“I don’t want to go out,” Jaehyun whines. “I’m not going to find a rebound, anyway. I don’t even want a rebound. I don’t need a rebound.”

“What you need is to get over Taeyong,” Yuta says, as if he’s never experienced heartbreak, though Jaehyun remembers how bummed out he was when Kun dumped him at the beginning of high school. “You’re wasting your time just lying here.”

“I’m not wasting my time,” Jaehyun says, “I’m not gonna meet anyone at a night out, anyway.”

“If it’s not a night out, then it’s a blind date,” Sehun tells him, raising his brows at him expectantly. “Arranged by Jungwoo. Pick your poison.”

“Fuck you, Jungwoo’s not going to arrange me some blind date,” Jaehyun says, “and if he did, you know he'd pick someone terrible.”

“Yeah, which’d let you complain about something other than the fact that Taeyong doesn't love you back,” Yuta says, “Jungwoo’s genius—ow, fuck,” he clutches his side where Sehun’s elbowed him, “what the hell was that for?”

“Look, Jaehyun, it’d do you good to get out of the dorms,” Sehun says, “you only leave the room lately when you’re hanging out with Taeyong. It’s a nightmare. If you can’t do it for yourself, at least do it for me. I deserve some privacy, every once in a while.”

“Didn’t you just break up with your boyfriend?” Yuta asks, “the hell do you need privacy for?”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Sehun says, rolling his eyes. “It’s less about the privacy. More about the rotten vibes Jaehyun’s spewing all over the room. How am I supposed to listen to Post Malone’s fire album when Jaehyun’s like this?”

“I’m still here, guys,” Jaehyun says. He pushes himself to sit up before taking a deep breath and getting up. “I’m not going on the night out nor to the blind date, okay? You can let it go now.”

“At least consider it," Sehun says. “It could do you some good. I hate to say it, but the whole Taeyong thing has shaken you up a bit, maybe? And you know, as thrilling as this is for me, you’ve really not been acting like yourself lately.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Jaehyun says. How’s he supposed to just brush it off and move on? It’s Taeyong. He’d been in the relationship of his life for not even two months and now he's supposed to just…move on? It’s sick, it’s insane, and it’s so incredibly hard.

So, so fucking hard.

It’s even harder because there's these moments where Jaehyun feels like nothing’s changed. There's these moments when Taeyong looks at him like he could still be in love. Rationally, Jaehyun knows he’s projecting. Rationally, he knows this is his mind’s response to being dumped, to put it lightly, knows it's his mind trying to make up for the Taeyong-sized hole in his heart, but.

It’s hard to rationalize it, sometimes.

“Friday night, ten pm, you’re going out with us,” Yuta says, bringing Jaehyun back to the conversation at hand. “Sehun’ll buy your drinks—”

“—I thought you were going to be the one who pays—”

“—and we’re going to get you a hot rebound,” Yuta says. “Personally, I think I’m a great wingman.”

“You were terrible on the double date,” Jaehyun says, “that was the worst experience of my life. Literally never trusting you to make me look good in front of someone, because that was a fucking nightmare.”

“It got you a boyfriend, didn't it?” Yuta says, “clearly the pathetic virgin turned moderately sexy half-chad approach works wonders.”

Jaehyun gapes at him, blinking once, twice, before he shakes his head.

“Fine,” he says, “I’ll agree to going out. I'm not having you guys be my wingmen, though, because that’s quite possibly the worst idea you two’ve ever had.”

Sehun and Yuta share a look before they meet Jaehyun’s eyes, grinning. “Deal.”

As expected, the night out is a nightmare. Sehun gets distracted from his generous goal of getting Jaehyun out of his dump early on, going up to chat up Chanyeol. Jaehyun recognizes him from somewhere—it’s only when Yuta starts sulking from the seat next to his that he knows from where.

“This is fucked up,” Yuta’s saying, “he’s my middle school friend. He’s off-limits! Sehun’s supposed to go be horny with someone else.”

“He’s just trying to chat him up,” Jaehyun reasons, “and not doing a very good job, judging by the looks of it. He’ll probably be back here within the hour.”

As it turns out, Sehun’s not back within the hour. Despite the initial hiccup, he does a surprisingly good job at entertaining Chanyeol, the two of them spending the whole time laughing, and Jaehyun joins Yuta in the sulking. As a result, they spend the night complaining, unconsciously turning away anyone who might've thought to approach with their sour expressions.

It gets worse when Sehun sends a message to their group chat. _am leaving,_ it reads, _see you guys tomorrow_ , and Yuta huffs, crossing his arms. It’s only when he and Jaehyun leave the club that Jaehyun realizes he doesn’t have his dorm room key—he must have left it back in their room—and it’s not like Sehun’s going to give him his now, not after leaving with Chanyeol. Jaehyun settles on sleeping over at Yuta’s, thanking every deity he can think of that Yuta lives in an apartment off-campus and owns a moderately comfortable couch.

Even so, Jaehyun's back aches when he gets up in the morning. That, paired with the way his head pounds, makes him want to crawl into his bed and stay there for the whole day. In hopes to counter that, he scours Yuta’s cabinets in search of ibuprofen, coming up empty handed and making peace with the fact that he has to go back to the dorms and pray that Sehun’s already back from getting laid.

It’s a short trek from there to the dormitories, fortunately for Jaehyun; he probably couldn’t walk much longer than that if he tried. He barely makes it up the stairs, feeling terrible, wishing he accepted Yuta’s proposition of a change of clothes despite the fact that they wouldn’t have fit him well at all. It would’ve been better than wearing his club outfit, definitely, but luckily no one’s wandering in the dormitory halls on the relatively early afternoon.

Well.

No one, except Taeyong, apparently.

Taeyong’s sitting under Jaehyun and Sehun's room, back flat against the wall and knees pulled up to his chest as he swipes through his phone. He doesn’t seem to hear Jaehyun as he walks down the hall until he stops right in front of Taeyong and clears his throat; Taeyong looks up then, eyes widening before they settle into a smile, grinning as he jumps to his feet.

“Were you waiting for me?” Jaehyun asks.

“Uh, kind of,” Taeyong says. He’s still smiling, a bit coy as he twists his fingers together, leaning back and forth on his heels. “I wanted to talk with you?”

“You did?” Jaehyun asks, brows knotting together. “About…?”

“About, uh,” Taeyong avoids his eyes—and it's then, it seems, that his eyes catch on Jaehyun’s outfit. “Oh. Are you— _oh_. Uh.”

Jaehyun looks down at his clothes—is it that bad? Maybe that’s the reason he didn’t manage to score a hot rebound, not Yuta’s whining and Sehun’s determination to get laid. He smooths down the front of his shirt.

“Yeah, was out yesterday,” Jaehyun says. “Sorry, uh, do you know if Sehun’s inside?”

“No one was opening the door when I knocked earlier,” Taeyong says and Jaehyun nods, pulling out his phone to send Sehun a couple of angry texts. Sehun appears to read them and judge them not important to respond to. God, he’s such an asshole sometimes. “So I don’t think he is?”

“Or he’s sleeping his hangover off,” Jaehyun says, sighing before he pounds his hand on the door. It’s either this or be stuck waiting here till Sehun graciously makes an appearance back—which sometimes takes hours on mornings like these. “Sehun! Open up!”

“Maybe he's not even inside,” Taeyong reasons, wincing at how loudly Jaehyun continues knocking. “Maybe he’s, uh, still out?”

“Maybe,” Jaehyun says, though he doesn't stop pounding on the door. He just about has the mind to stop when the door swings open, his hand stopping in front of Sehun’s face, who looks very unamused.

“You couldn’t wait until it was like, a reasonable time?” he asks, glaring at him. Not exactly in a good mood, unsurprisingly. “It’s like, fuck in the morning.”

“It’s one pm,” Jaehyun says. He eyes him—he must’ve been sleeping, his hair uncharacteristically unruly. “Did you take him here?”

“Did I—God, no, obviously not.”

“Did you make me forget my keys on purpose? Was this your whole ploy?”

Sehun blinks at him, once, twice, before his ears catch on the teasing tone to Jaehyun’s voice. “Fuck you,” he says, before rolling his eyes and opening the door wider, letting Jaehyun slip in. Only then does he notice Taeyong, who’s lingering awkwardly by the wall. “Ah. Should’ve figured.”

“Should’ve figured what?” Jaehyun asks, from where he’s sifting through the pile of clothes on his desk chair in hopes of finding something that’s at least a bit clean to wear. It’s proving to be more difficult than he would have expected. “Do you have any ibuprofen?”

“On my desk,” Sehun says. “What’re you doing here, Taeyong? Jaehyun catch you on the way home or something?”

“Uh, no,” Taeyong says, “I came by here, earlier. I knocked but no one was answering so I just… vibed under the room.”

“Ah, that’s my bad,” Sehun says, not sounding the least bit apologetic. Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I’m not getting out of the dorm to let you two talk, though. Not this time. Fucking tired as shit.”

“Couldn’t you have just stayed at Chanyeol’s?” Jaehyun asks. He shrugs off his dress shirt, pulling on his cleaner hoodie. He changes into sweatpants, too, hidden by Sehun from Taeyong’s sight. “Would've made you that much less annoying.”

“Do I need to remind you that you’d be locked out, still, if I stayed there?” Sehun says, leaning on the doorway as he turns to watch Jaehyun make an absolute mess of his desk, shuffling aside papers and everything else before he finds the ibuprofen, popping out one pill and immediately swallowing it down. “Do you not want some water with that, king?”

“You probably should wash it down with some water,” Taeyong agrees.

“I’ll be fine,” Jaehyun says, trying his hardest not to gag. The ibuprofen leaves a nasty taste at the front of his throat and yeah, he’s definitely going to need to wash it down as soon as possible. “Have been through worse.”

Sehun rolls his eyes though he doesn’t respond, patting the door slightly before letting go to get back in bed. Jaehyun sends him a look to which Sehun just looks away, visibly embarrassed.

“We’ll get out of your hair, now,” Jaehyun says, taking hold of the door. “Take care, yeah?”

“Same goes to you, Jaehyun,” Sehun says. He sits up, just barely managing to get into Taeyong’s line of sight, and adds, “and you, Taeyong. Don’t let Jaehyun do anything crazy.”

“Right,” Taeyong says, letting Jaehyun shut the door. “He okay?”

“A bit out of it, maybe, but he’ll be fine,” Jaehyun says. He stuffs his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “Sorry about the whole thing, by the way. What did you need?”

“Huh?”

Jaehyun smiles. “You came here for a reason, didn’t you?” he says gently. “Unless it was just to see me, in which case understandable.”

“Oh, uh,” Taeyong says, “it was nothing serious. Don’t worry about it.”

“You wanted to talk about something, though, didn’t you?”

Taeyong pauses, narrowing his eyes at him. Jaehyun can almost see the gears turning in his head, can visualize it, but he's got no clue what Taeyong’s thinking so hard about. Something along the lines of not Jaehyun, definitely, which is kind of funny, considering Jaehyun spends a majority of his waking moments thinking of Taeyong.

“It was nothing,” Taeyong says. “I was just… I was wondering whether you’d like to go to the roller rink with me? There’s some event today and I thought it’d be nice.”

“When is it?”

“I think it starts at six,” Taeyong says, “and the roller rink is really close by. The tickets are free, too. It’d be really nice, I promise.”

It’d be really nice, Jaehyun’s sure, if not for the head ache still pressing down on his mind, if not for the way his heart spasms painfully in his chest. He’s about to say no, about to give him some stupid excuse, before he makes the mistake of meeting Taeyong’s eyes. They’re open wide, his smile a bit tentative, and Jaehyun already knows what he's going to say.

“Yeah,” his mouth lets out the word before he makes the conscious decision to do it himself, “we can meet later for it, though, if that's okay? I’ll just go shower and freshen up, maybe.”

Taeyong beams at him.

“That works for me,” he says, “pick me up at half past four? If that works for you?”

“I’ll pick you up then,” Jaehyun agrees and Taeyong throws his hand up in a funny little wave before he spins on his heel, a bounce to his step. Jaehyun watches him go before shaking his head and turning to go back to his and Sehun’s room, unaware that Taeyong turned over his shoulder to send him one last glance.

xiii.

“Do you think Doyoung’s back already?”

Taeyong gives Jaehyun a doubtful look from where he’s leaning on the wall, arms resting loosely around his torso as he watches Jaehyun struggle to open the door. It’d been a cold night and despite the extra warmth he’s gotten from Jaehyun’s scarf wound around his neck, Taeyong’s half-convinced he’ll wake up tomorrow with a cold. Or—not tomorrow, but later in the day, perhaps, considering they’d stayed out late enough to watch the sun rise.

“Maybe,” he says. Jaehyun fails to fit the key into the hole another time. “Do you need help with that?”

Jaehyun stays silent and Taeyong watches his shaky hands, a direct result of the fatigue and adrenaline from actually going out that Taeyong himself feels, churning quietly in his stomach.

The date they ended up going on lasted through the whole night. It started with Taeyong dragging Jaehyun to his favorite places in the city, as if he hasn’t taken him there plenty of times before already, and ended with them stumbling around the centre, stopping at open bars and shops, neither too eager to return home. Though in reality they’d been on their feet for several hours, it all passed in the blink of an eye and when they watched the sunrise on the bus ride back home, shoulder-to-shoulder and knee-to-knee, hands wound tightly together, Taeyong found himself wishing they could find an excuse to stay out, wrapped in their own little paradise.

He doesn’t have much time to dwell on that because Jaehyun drops the keys for the third time, his nervous laughter echoing throughout the building.

“Sorry,” he mutters, picking up the keys, “just a bit insane right now, I guess.”

“Let me do it,” Taeyong says, softly prying the keys out of Jaehyun’s fingers and shoving him over when he watches Jaehyun struggle with them some more. When he pulls the door open, he adds cheekily, “do I make you that nervous?”

“Sort of,” Jaehyun doesn’t even give Taeyong a chance to process that as he enters the apartment. He shrugs off his coat, throwing it on top of Doyoung’s on their coatrack—and there’s his answer, Taeyong thinks; Doyoung must have returned before them, and Taeyong’s got no idea whether him not staying the night at Johnny’s is a good sign or not.

He’ll worry about that later, he decides, unwinding Jaehyun’s scarf from his neck slowly and setting it down on the dresser, unzipping his jacket and hanging it up. Doyoung’s likely asleep now, anyway, the apartment quiet and the living room dark save for the sliver of light coming from between their curtains, and Taeyong’s got more urgent things on his mind.

Like Jaehyun, for example.

“Do you want some coffee?” Jaehyun asks, voice hushed just slightly, when Taeyong slips out of the bathroom after washing his hands. He’s leaning on the kitchen counter, the coffee machine whirring rather loudly to life in front of him, and Taeyong can’t hold back his smile as he takes a seat at the counter, folding his arms over it and resting his chin on his hands.

“Shouldn’t we be going to sleep?”

“It’s not a school night,” Jaehyun teases, glancing at Taeyong over his shoulder before pulling out two cups from the cupboards, setting them down on the counter. “I think your parents will let you stay up past your bedtime, as long as you ask nicely.”

“Very funny.”

“You can go to sleep if you want to,” Jaehyun tells him. “I just…” he trails off for a few moments, quiet, and Taeyong almost thinks he won’t continue when he says, “I don’t want this to end.”

“You’re breaking up with me already?” Taeyong says. It has the desired effect of Jaehyun biting back a smile and rolling his eyes, the smallest bit of tension slipping from his shoulders. “We’ve only been on one date. Give me a second chance, king.”

“We’ve been on more than one date,” Jaehyun corrects, “and you know that’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean, then?”

Jaehyun doesn’t respond, quiet as he watches the coffee drip into the two cups. He chews on his bottom lip and Taeyong watches him, silent. “It’s just—it’s easy now,” he says. “We don’t have to worry about what comes after this and we can pretend that this is just the beginning. But it’s not and I—I’m worried that it’ll end how it did the first time.”

“It won’t,” Taeyong says, rising in his seat. He holds his hand out, just barely grazing Jaehyun’s forearm. “It won’t,” he repeats, this time a little quieter.

“You can’t know that,” Jaehyun says.

Taeyong almost regrets prodding the topic at that. They’ll have to talk about it—if not only because a lack of communication is going to lead them to the same place it did in college, then because Taeyong feels that same ache in his chest that Jaehyun must feel, a worry that once they call it a day, everything will go back to the way it was. That they’ll go back to skirting around each other, around their feelings, and that’ll be it. That Jaehyun will wake up with his head clear and declare it nothing more than a mistake—declare that he was wrong about his feelings, that he didn’t reciprocate what Taeyong felt, that he doesn’t want to do this at all.

They’ll have to talk about it, but now isn’t the right time.

“I can’t,” he says and Jaehyun looks at him—and maybe it was the wrong thing to say, but he presses on, adding, “I can’t, but there’s no point in dwelling on that now, is there? Come here.” Jaehyun obeys, stepping closer to the counter, and it’s not the best position but Taeyong takes the chance to grasp his hands, anyway, threading their fingers together. “Maybe it’ll work out this time. Maybe it won’t. We’ll never know if we don’t try it.”

His words hang in the air awkwardly as Jaehyun stares at their hands, tightly intertwined, before he looks up to meet Taeyong’s eyes. He leans on the counter, rubs his thumb over Taeyong’s knuckles. “This is the best pep talk you can give me?”

“This isn’t a fucking pep talk, you asshole,” Taeyong says, tugging on Jaehyun’s hand, unable to stop the smile from stretching his lips. “I’m just saying: there’s no point to dwelling on that now.”

Though Jaehyun doesn’t look entirely convinced, he still indulges Taeyong. “And what do you suggest we do instead?”

“I’ve got a couple of ideas.”

They end up sprawled out on the couch, untouched coffee long forgotten in the kitchen and no space between them as the Michael Jackson-themed episode of _Glee_ plays out in the background. Taeyong’s able to pick up bits and pieces of it, though his attention is swept away by Jaehyun before Sebastian even graces the screen. He even misses the best scene of the episode (Sebastian throwing a slushee in Blaine’s eyes) but he can’t find it in himself to mind, too distracted by the way Jaehyun presses kisses into his skin and slips his hands under his shirt.

Even so, fatigue overtakes them eventually.

Taeyong doesn’t remember falling asleep; he remembers letting himself sink into the cushions, arms tight around Jaehyun to keep him from falling off the couch. Though _Glee_ had still been playing in the background, its white noise somewhat soothing to Taeyong’s ears, the apartment is silent when he wakes up. Notably, Jaehyun’s nowhere to be found, either, and Taeyong entertains himself with the fantasy that he’d gone out to grab them some breakfast, that he’ll be walking through the front door in no time with a paper bag filled with croissants or bagels or something of the sort.

The illusion breaks when Taeyong finds a post-it stuck to the center of his forehead, reading _got called into work:( sorry_ ** _._** It’s not Jaehyun’s fault—if anything, Taeyong should file a complaint to his boss—but it does make him feel a bit uneasy. He finds his way to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee and sinking into a seat by the table, unable to stop his mind from turning.

He’s saved by a distraction in the form of Doyoung, who looks a bit terrible, eyes puffy and downtrodden, heart heavy as he tells Taeyong everything that happened between him and Johnny the day before. Taeyong pushes everything into the backseat of his mind, then, as he drags Doyoung to the couch, putting on _Robots_ (2005) and rubbing small reassurances onto Doyoung’s back.

Somewhere in between that and the end of the movie, Taeyong drifts off.

It’s Jaehyun’s voice that wakes him. The words don’t exactly register in his sleep-ridden brain, but Taeyong picks up on the almost annoyed tone, followed immediately by the teasing lilt to whatever Doyoung says.

“Is that it?” Jaehyun’s biting back, clearly mocking Doyoung. Taeyong shifts in his spot, slowly blinking his eyes open. “What do you mean? Also, is it two cups of flour or less?”

“The resident cook is asleep,” Doyoung replies. “Just pull up the recipe and let him have some rest. I was asking about the date. Did you really just do that?”

Taeyong’s curiosity peaks; “do what,” he murmurs, voice still much raspier than usual from sleep, and Doyoung lightly brushes his fringe out of his face.

“I’m just talking with Jaehyun about his date,” Doyoung explains, “the one he went on yesterday.”

“Oh,” Taeyong says, sitting up properly. He rubs his eyes, silent for a moment, before his eyes find Jaehyun’s figure in the kitchen, staring down at his phone as he assembles the ingredients for _something_ on the kitchen counter. "So how was it?”

“Well, he’s not really telling me much—”

“—Taeyong, do you want some tea?”

“Yes, please,” Taeyong mirrors Jaehyun’s smile when Jaehyun glances up from his phone at him, “black with two teaspoons of sugar.”

“You’re not going to distract us from this, Jaehyun,” Doyoung says, not quite getting the memo that he’s third wheeling just yet. “I’m set on getting to the bottom of this.”

“Wouldn’t you rather talk about your, uh, what was it?” Jaehyun asks, glancing at Doyoung for a moment, eyes narrowing. “The party?”

“We’ve already gone over it,” Doyoung says, waving a hand. “Nothing interesting, promise. Just embarrassed myself as per usual. Now come on, at least give me something.”

“I already told you,” Jaehyun sighs, “we just vibed and shit.”

Taeyong scoffs, having to try hard to keep the amusement out of his voice when he replies. “That all you’re gonna say?”

“Exactly,” Doyoung nods, ignoring the way Jaehyun’s brows pull together, “come on, even Taeyong agrees with me. We deserve to—wait.” He narrows his eyes, turning to look at Taeyong, “you don’t like hearing about Jaehyun’s conquests. What’s this about?”

“Uh,” Taeyong says, biting his bottom lip, mind struggling to spin together a believable lie. “I’m just curious? I mean—apparently it slapped, so I’m just… curious.”

“Right.” Doyoung, very clearly, does not believe him.

“So,” Taeyong twists his hands together, unable to stop the nerves from springing up under his skin. “Are you gonna tell us?”

“Tell you what?” Jaehyun asks, his one brain cell failing to fire. “You already—”

“—tell us how the date went,” Taeyong presses.

“You know how it went,” Jaehyun says, frowning, still not understanding what Taeyong’s getting at. “You were there.”

“Yeah, I was there, when you told me about it this morning,” Taeyong says, enunciating the words almost pointedly, and maybe it’s not the right thing to say, guessing from how Jaehyun’s face falls. They had agreed to keep Doyoung out of this, though—at least in the beginning, in case they’ve been wrong about everything.

“Oh,” Jaehyun says.

“And, besides, Doyoung wasn’t there then.”

“I wasn’t, that’s true,” Doyoung cuts in.

“Yeah,” Taeyong says, “and, you know. I wouldn’t mind hearing about it again.”

Jaehyun furrows his brows before he shakes his head, letting out a sigh that sounds more fond than exasperated. “As I told the both of you already, it was very nice,” he says, eyes stagnant on Taeyong, “I don’t need to give you a play-by-play, yeah?”

“You’re useless,” Doyoung says, and Taeyong’s eager to agree. “Taeyong, did you know Jaehyun didn’t drag whatever unlucky bitch went out with him to the shitty clubs he usually goes to?”

“He didn’t?” Taeyong asks, the question barely coming through the intonation. He clears his throat. “Damn, that’s crazy.”

“Right?” Doyoung says. “Very out of character.”

“And what exactly would be in character?”

“You taking your date to some shitty club you usually go to,” Doyoung tells Jaehyun, “like you did with one of my co-actors in the latest shitty play—uh, Xiaojun.”

“Xiaojun,” Jaehyun nods. “Right, okay, yeah, so maybe that’s on me.”

“Why was this one different, then?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong says, drumming his fingers on the couch’s armrest, “any reason as to why you didn’t go to some shitty club?”

“Just—I don’t know, didn’t seem right,” Jaehyun says, “I don’t know, I didn’t want to treat—uh, my date as… you know, the same way I’ve treated the other ones before him, because this is different, as stupid as it may sound.”

“It doesn’t sound stupid,” Taeyong says, his voice coming out strained.

Jaehyun smiles at him, small and sincere, and Taeyong feels warmth spread through his whole chest. “Yeah, he’s—well, he’s special to me, I guess.” Doyoung says something then, but Taeyong can’t concentrate on his voice, what Jaehyun said playing on repeat in his mind. Before he gets the chance to process that completely, Jaehyun’s replying to Doyoung, his words only sending Taeyong into a deeper spiral. "I do hope I’ll—I don’t know, have the chance to go out with him again. On a real date, this time. And that something comes out of it, maybe.” He pauses, expression cautious as he stares at Taeyong, worrying his lip between his teeth before he finishes, “if not, though, then it’s fine. If he doesn’t feel the same, then it’s not—I don’t know, shit.”

“Maybe he does,” Taeyong blurts out.

“Maybe,” Jaehyun says, “we’ll see how it goes.”

The conversation twists away from their date then but Taeyong’s barely able to focus on it. He catches Jaehyun’s eyes as Doyoung rambles about his terrible Uber ride the night before, and he finds himself unable to bite back his grin.

They’ll figure everything out in due time, he’s sure.

viii.

Jaehyun spends the rest of his college days being in love with Taeyong, as pathetic as that sounds. It’s something of a waste of time, maybe, Yuta tells him, and Jaehyun can’t really disagree; it’ll only be so long before someone comes in and sweeps Taeyong off his feet, permanently ruining whatever delusions Jaehyun might have about them getting back together. He’s running on limited time and, what's worse, is fully aware of it, but he’s got no intention of switching onto a lifeboat.

Not that that matters to his friends, who've made it their life mission to keep setting him up. Jaehyun doesn’t really mind, even if he makes a big show of it, because though the dates don’t work out, maybe they will, one day. Maybe they will and he’ll be ready to get over Taeyong, to let him go.

It seems rather unlikely that that’ll happen anytime soon, but.

It does help, though. It helps take his mind off of Taeyong: instead of being in love with him all the time, Jaehyun’s got a little break to meet someone new and pretend they could be as interesting to him as Taeyong is. They never are. None of them could even stand a chance next to Taeyong, which Jaehyun shouldn’t even be surprised by at this point; there’s no one quite like him, he comes to learn over the course of the years.

There’s a moment, in their junior year, when Jaehyun’s on the verge of going insane because of Taeyong’s new friend, Doyoung, who’s a theatre student, not to mention eloquent, not to mention funny, not to mention ridiculously attractive. He’s got big dreams of performing on Broadway and Taeyong’s fascinated by him, and every time Jaehyun hears about him he feels terribly small in comparison.

“He’s so cool,” Taeyong tells Jaehyun one day, when they’re sitting in the park. They're supposed to be having a picnic, but neither of them thought far enough ahead to plan any of it. “I mean, he’s got this clean-cut version of the dreams he wants to achieve. He’s acted already, can you believe?”

Jaehyun can, in fact, believe, because all that he knows about Doyoung, so far, is that he's good at everything.

“Has he?” he asks instead of being mean, because Taeyong’s eyes are shining in the sun, his skin glowing, his smile wide. “What’d he play?”

“A bunch of these niche roles,” Taeyong says, “I don’t remember most of the plays’ titles, but they all seemed really interesting. I don’t know. It just blows me away, a little. I mean, isn’t it crazy?”

That loops in Jaehyun’s brain for a good few days before he has the chance to actually properly meet Doyoung, who turns out to be everything Taeyong says. He’s determined, too, scarily ambitious, and Jaehyun immediately understands the awe Taeyong feels for him. And it’s awe—not love, not like, and though it might develop into that someday, for now it’s not. For now there’s no need for Jaehyun to start seriously dating, to start considering more than one night stands or one time dates.

For now there’s no need for Jaehyun to actually push through and seriously try to get over Taeyong, instead of continuing with his shitty half-assed attempts.

Doyoung’s other advantage is that he’s extremely oblivious—this comes in handy when he, Taeyong and Jaehyun agree to move in together, during Taeyong and Jaehyun’s senior year. Most of Jaehyun’s friends are well aware of his and Taeyong’s history, either because they were there to witness it or because they’re smart enough to figure that there’s something in the way Jaehyun acts around Taeyong. Doyoung, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to pay much attention to it.

“You’ve known each other since…?”

“Sophomore year,” Jaehyun says, “of college.”

“Huh,” Doyoung replies. He’s supposed to be helping Jaehyun with his psych class—one that Doyoung apparently passed with flying colors the year before, but he seems to be into doing anything but that. “I would have guessed since high school. Maybe earlier?”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung muses. “you two seem really close.”

“We’ve one of those one in a lifetime friendships,” Jaehyun says, pretending the words don’t scratch against his throat, “real soulmate shit or something.”

“Real soulmate shit,” Doyoung echoes, before he rolls his eyes and laughs. “God, you two are so corny.”

“We’re not corny,” Jaehyun whines.

Doyoung bonks him on the head with his pen, taking too much pleasure in the movement. “Sure, sure,” he says, and that seems to be the end of him questioning their relationship. Not that Jaehyun minds, considering that even thinking of explaining the whole situation makes his head pulse. Not to mention that it’s easier for him to be stuck with Taeyong in this limbo between being together and as close as friends can be without Doyoung questioning their every interaction.

And—Jaehyun knows, rationally, that his mind is pushing them into the limbo. He knows that they’re not actually in love, that Taeyong doesn’t reciprocate his feelings. It's nice to think that he could, though, when they cuddle on their shitty couch or when he comes to pick Jaehyun up from class or when they have those weird little moments that remind Jaehyun so much of everything that was.

It’s much nicer than it was right after their break-up, because they’ve gone back to being comfortable with each other physically. There’s still things they won’t do that they had grown used to back then, obviously, but sometimes Jaehyun can kid himself into thinking that this is enough, that it’s all he’ll ever need. He manages to make it work, pushing down everything he feels for Taeyong with countless dates that mean nothing to him in the long run, pretending Taeyong’s biting comments about his conquests mean much more than they actually do.

The careful balance he’s managed to build up nearly crumbles to the ground when Doyoung sits him down on the couch and says, almost accusatory, “you went out with Taeyong?”

There’s not much more Jaehyun can do than blink at him, confused. “…Yes?” He says, finally. “Any particular reason you’re asking?”

“Taeyong just told me,” Doyoung says, “I thought he was pranking me again.”

And maybe that perfectly summarizes the whole thing, Jaehyun thinks.

“He wasn’t,” Jaehyun sits back on the couch, throwing his arm over the back and watching as Doyoung pieces everything together, mumbling something under his breath. “We went strong for a generous two months. Almost two months, but, you know. Details.”

“Huh,” Doyoung says. He’s quiet for a moment and Jaehyun thinks that’s the end of it, before Doyoung lets a slew of questions slip out his mouth and Jaehyun has no choice but to answer them. He doesn’t think much of it, even going so far as to forget the whole thing happened. It takes a particularly slow shift at the café for him to finally think about it—and.

What’s Taeyong doing thinking about the whole thing, anyway?

The question keeps his mind spinning, making him feel a little uneasy. Making hope rise in his chest, all the way to his throat on his way home till he crosses the apartment doors. He finds Taeyong in his bedroom, mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“You told Doyoung?” Jaehyun blurts out.

It takes Taeyong a moment to answer; he looks up, first, eyes sliding over Jaehyun and he’s clearly biting back a smile—and, despite himself, Jaehyun lets the small drop of hope grow till it floods his lungs.

Maybe they’ve still got a chance.

xiv.

“I’m going to tell Doyoung,” Taeyong says.

He’s watching Jaehyun as he says it, trying to gauge his reaction. They’re in the car, currently, Jaehyun having picked him up from the airport; it had been a rush, watching the way Jaehyun couldn’t control his smile as soon as he saw Taeyong, having Jaehyun kiss him in the airport like they haven’t seen each other for much more than not even a full week.

Honestly, Taeyong doesn’t think he’s ever felt happier.

Even now, his heart can’t stop racing. It’s a byproduct of the way Jaehyun’s holding his hand over the gearshift, surely, because even though it’s kind of uncomfortable, both their wrists twisted into place, it’s so stupidly romantic that Taeyong almost wants to cry. It only gets worse when Jaehyun has to change the gear, the awkward motion setting off Taeyong’s giggles—which in turn makes Jaehyun glance at him, grin wide across his face, and Taeyong feels seconds away from passing out.

That’s a thing, now, too—not the passing out, but them looking at each other, their emotions fully in the open for everyone to see. It’s so much different from the first time they were together, at least for Taeyong; he remembers the way he used to stop himself from watching Jaehyun too much, terror clawing at his skin.

Now, though, it’s entirely different.

Now, he can look at him however long he wants to, able to keep his feelings at least mostly in check. He can watch Jaehyun drive from the passenger seat, not having to force himself to stare out the window at the dark sky. Can trace Jaehyun’s features with his eyes however much he wants, forever engraining them in his mind.

And if Jaehyun feels his eyes on him, he doesn’t say anything, though the small smile etched into his features is telling enough.

“Tell him about what?”

“About us,” he says. Jaehyun’s hand visibly tightens on the steering wheel. “I want to tell Joohyun and Seulgi, too. And Donghyuck, though I’m like, almost certain he already knows.” Jaehyun doesn’t say anything, silent, and Taeyong adds, “if you don’t mind, that is.”

Jaehyun taps his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Why’d you have to tell me now,” he says, finally, and Taeyong furrows his brows, cocking his head to the side, confused. “I’m driving.”

“And? What does that have to do with anything?”

“A lot,” Jaehyun scoffs. “For one, I can’t even kiss you right now.”

Taeyong blinks, once, twice, before he laughs in disbelief. “I thought you were annoyed!” he says, using his free hand to lightly swat Jaehyun’s arm. “I thought you were mad at me for even suggesting it.”

“I’m not,” Jaehyun says, his voice gentle. “I’m—god. I don’t know. It’s just… nice to think about.” He pauses, pensive, before he adds, “if you’re not—uh, okay. If you’re just doing this for me or whatever, then you don’t have to. Tell anyone, I mean. It’s fine if you don’t.”

“I want to,” Taeyong says, “I’m not—I’m not doing just doing it for you. If anything, I’m doing this for myself.” Jaehyun glances at him, raising his brows in question, and Taeyong adds, “I want to act like a couple in front of Doyoung till he hates us. I want to tell my friends about you and how in love I am and have them tease me for it. I want to come visit you at work and have Haseul or Mark relentlessly tease us because we’re so disgustingly in love. I even want—and this is a lot, so you know it’s serious—I even want Donghyuck to clown me for it, to make fun of me whenever I ask him to give you some note with a shitty pick-up line.”

“Aw, you’d write me shitty pick-up lines?”

“You’re focusing on the wrong thing,” Taeyong says, “I want to tell everyone about this. About us. I want to, because I’m so—I’m so in love with you, it’s driving me insane and I want everything that entails. I want all the teasing, all the sweet moments. I want Doyoung to hate us because he found out we made out on the couch. I want—god, I even want to go on another shitty double date, this time with Doyoung and whoever he goes out with next.”

“God, that’s so fucked up,” Jaehyun says. “That’s all I want, too.”

“That’s all you’re going to say?” Taeyong teases, “I’m laying my heart out for you. Come on, try a little harder.”

“You’re so annoying,” Jaehyun says, his cheeks blooming red, and Taeyong wishes his phone wasn’t still in his bag. “I can’t believe I’m into you.”

When Jaehyun doesn’t continue, Taeyong raises his brows, expectant. “Well?”

“I want everyone to know, too,” Jaehyun says, “though Haseul has already known for like, the past year, at least. Well, she knew that I liked you, I mean, but. You get the point.”

“Did she?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun smiles. “She teased me endlessly for it. For all the notes you’d give me, for how happy I’d get when you’d visit. Mark, too, since we’re on the topic. You remember the chocolates he gave me?”

“Uh, yes,” Taeyong says, trying to figure out how exactly that ties in to everything. “The ones he gave you as thanks for covering for him all the time? The ones that were stale?”

Jaehyun laughs. “Yeah, those,” he says, “he gave them to me with specific instructions to give them to you. I figured that he’d found out that you were much more annoyed about the whole him being late thing than I was.”

“You didn’t give them to me, though,” Taeyong frowns, remembering the chocolates Jaehyun brought home a few months ago. “You mean to tell me I was going to get a whole box of chocolates for myself? God, that would have been the life.”

“They were stale,” Jaehyun reminds him, before he shakes his head. “Mark included a little note inside the box in which he pretended he was me confessing to you.”

“I like to think I would’ve been able to tell that it’s not your handwriting,” Taeyong says, though he can’t help his smile. “Not to shit on Mark’s genius plan, of course. If it worked we would have gotten back together a few months earlier, so maybe he was onto something.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to read it,” Jaehyun says, “it took me ten minutes to figure it out and I had Haseul’s help.”

“Please, I’d be able to figure it out in five,” Taeyong says, “I’ve had experience with your handwriting, after all.”

“Okay, but Mark’s handwriting looks like literal chicken scratch.”

“And yours doesn’t?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I promise you, Mark’s worse. Trust me on this.”

“I will not,” Taeyong says, sending Jaehyun a self-satisfied grin.

“Anyway,” Jaehyun squeezes Taeyong’s hand, “I want them to know, too. That we’re together for real, now. Doyoung, too, if only so he stops thinking you thought I was sleazy on our first date.”

“We’ve already gone over this,” Taeyong whines, “I didn’t think you were sleazy. Or—okay, maybe a bit, but in like, the sexy way.”

“There’s no sexy way to be sleazy,” Jaehyun argues, “I think we both know that.”

“Okay, damn,” Taeyong says, “you were kind of sleazy on the double date, period. Until we left, at least. It was fine after that.”

“I was only kind of sleazy because I got all my dating tips from Sehun and Yuta,” Jaehyun says.

“You listened to them?”

“They both had boyfriends at the time,” Jaehyun says, “ones they were together with, long-term. Well—maybe not Sehun, though he’s still with Chanyeol even now. And Yuta… I don’t know if he’s still with Jungwoo, but they were together a long time. And the few relationships I had before you didn’t last, like, at all. I really didn’t want that to happen to us.”

It’s so sweet. It’s possibly one of the top five sweetest things Jaehyun’s ever said to him—and there’s a lot of those that Taeyong’s gotten over the years—but Taeyong’s on a mission. “And you thought acting sleazy would be the best way to accomplish that?”

“Well,” Jaehyun says. He looks at Taeyong, giving him a smug grin, “it worked, didn’t it?”

“How exactly did it work?” Taeyong deadpans. “We were together for not even two months in college. I wouldn’t exactly consider it long-term.”

“You still got hung up on me,” Jaehyun says, “you still couldn’t get over me. I think that qualifies as it kind of working.”

Taeyong’s face burns, though it’s not like he can disagree. Not entirely, anyway. “You don’t get to tease me for that! You had the exact same problem.”

“Yeah, but I’m not accusing you of acting sleazy on our first date,” Jaehyun says, “maybe you’re just into sleazy people. I don’t know what that says about you. Nothing good, surely.”

“I’m not into sleazy people. God.”

“You sure?” Jaehyun says, “you don’t want to date the lawyer you and Doyoung went for drinks with, by any chance?”

“You’re so annoying,” Taeyong says. “I can’t stand you. You’re the worst person I’ve ever met.”

“Nooo, don’t say that, you’re so sexy.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes, though he can’t stop the smile that’s pushing at his lips. “Remind me again why I’m dating you?”

“I think it’s the you being into sleazy people thing,” Jaehyun says.

“For the second time, I’m not into sleazy people,” Taeyong says, “and you’re not sleazy. Don’t call yourself sleazy.”

“I figure it’s not that bad if you got with me,” Jaehyun says. “Willing to take this one for the team.”

“You’re not sleazy,” Taeyong insists, “you’re just—I mean, you took Sehun and Yuta’s advice. That’s less sleazy and more just being dumb, I think.”

“And that’s better?”

“Uh, yeah,” Taeyong says, because it’s obvious. “Being dumb is sexy. I love dumb bitches. Nothing better than dumb bitches, personally.”

“So that’s why you’re with me.”

“No,” Taeyong says. “I’m with you because I love you. Get it right.”

“Say that again.”

“Say what again?” Taeyong asks, teasing, “get it right? I don’t entirely see how that bares repeating—”

“—you know what I mean,” Jaehyun says, rolling his eyes.

“I love you,” Taeyong says. Jaehyun squeezes his hand over the gearshift.

“Say it again.”

“How many times do I gotta say it?”

“Just a few more.”

“I love you,” Taeyong says, watching how Jaehyun’s smile widens considerably, eyes shining when he glances at Taeyong. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—”

“—god, I’ve never been happier to see a red light,” Jaehyun says as he slows down the car, and sure enough, Taeyong looks up to catch the yellow light switch to red. “I love you,” Jaehyun says, twisting in his seat to face Taeyong, “I love you so much it’s unreal.”

“I love you, too,” Taeyong says, a bit confused as Jaehyun lets go of his hand and reaches to cup Taeyong’s cheek. “Oh, so we’re doing this?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says before he leans over the console to kiss Taeyong, who meets him half-way. Taeyong almost forgets they’re in a car, in the middle of the road, before Jaehyun pulls away and says, his voice low, “remember how you said I’m your teenage dream?”

“Mhm,” Taeyong hums, “yeah. Of course I do.”

“For the record, you’re my teenage dream, too,” Jaehyun says and Taeyong’s heart swells in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say, how to respond, because if he starts speaking, he’ll probably cry, feeling very overwhelmed. He’s spared from replying by whoever’s behind them honking at them, clearly annoyed—the light must have turned green.

Jaehyun doesn’t turn back to the road.

“We should really get going,” Taeyong reminds him, “if only so whoever’s behind us doesn’t ram into your car.”

Jaehyun laughs into the small space between them and Taeyong can’t help but join in. He pulls Jaehyun towards him to kiss him, one more time, feeling his smile press against his lips, before pushing him back into his seat.

“You’re insane,” Jaehyun says, though he reaches for Taeyong’s hand, nonetheless, before he starts driving again. “You’re insane.”

“You’re the one who kissed me first,” Taeyong says, “I think you’re the insane one here, babe.”

Jaehyun looks at him again, smile wide, looking so ridiculously happy, and it’s official:

Taeyong’s going to be completely and unequivocally in love with Jaehyun for the rest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> hope this made sense and that u enjoyed it <3 !!
> 
> come say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/frouggyu) // [buy me a ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/frougge)


End file.
